Regretting
by binkeybella
Summary: Tony's decision to break from the team leads to some serious consequences, and some soul-searching on the part of Gibbs and company. Sequel to "Reverting".
1. Chapter 1

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

His team, with Gibbs leading the pack, had backed him into a corner, and had really and truly left him no other options. A showdown between his boss and himself in the bullpen had led to Tony fleeing to the director's office, his head spinning like Linda Blair's in 'The Exorcist', where Sheppard had kindly put him out of his misery by sending him on a supposedly simple undercover op.

As he lay in the ditch he'd been tossed into by the moving car, he was almost wishing he'd picked up that report Gibbs had thrown at him and ordered him to rewrite. Almost. But not quite. Even the exquisite pain radiating through his right arm and lower back couldn't make him regret not bending over and taking another one in the ass from his boss in front of his team.

He wondered if they even knew he was missing, and if they did, if they would care to look for him. It was getting dark, and he was losing hope, too injured and weak to crawl up to the road to flag down help. Yet another car went by, and this one managed to swerve over enough to hit the puddle of cold, muddy rain water to arch up and spray over him, but not closely enough to see him lying there in the tall grass.

At least Ducky would care enough to check on his whereabouts and give him a once-over in autopsy before sending him home to a hot shower and bed. As for the rest of them…well, he was pretty sure he was merely giving them the opportunity to replace him with an agent they could live with, someone they actually liked. Stan Burley's name sprang to mind immediately, and he felt a recurring pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his present injuries.

All those years, those nearly five years of working so hard to prove himself and be something in the eyes of someone he truly respected, had been shot to hell when that bomb exploded and wiped out over a decade of his mentor's life. Now the man Tony had come to view as a father (though he would never admit it to anyone, not even Abby) not only barely remembered him, but seemed to hate what he _did _remember of him.

And the team that he had been a part of, had even led for four months, remembered him all too well, and had lined up behind their leader to throw stones at the man for daring to attempt to pick up the pieces when Gibbs had quit and run to Mexico.

He had been gone from the bullpen for almost three weeks, and no one had tried to contact him. Maybe the Director had forbid it.

Or maybe she had said nothing, and none of them gave a rat's ass where he was. The fact that the latter was even a possibility hurt more than anything.

Tony sighed and decided sadly that the latter was more likely. He guessed he had his answer to what Gibbs and the others were wanting from him. If he got found before he croaked, and didn't croak soon after from the injuries, he would put himself back on the market and see what was out there.

Life didn't begin and end at Naval Criminal Investigative Services. Unless of course, you had been tossed out of a moving car into the ditch on the coldest, rainiest day in months. Yesterday had been warm and sunny, nearly 70 degrees. Why couldn't his cover have been blown yesterday?

Another car passed, and another, and then he heard what sounded like one slowing down. He heard voices, and doors slamming, and more cars slowing down, and then someone yelling. He knew the voice, somewhere in his frozen pain-filled fog he knew it, and it was sweet. Dear God in heaven, someone _did _care enough about him to come looking for him. Then again, maybe the guy was just really pissed for blowing a joint operation with the FBI. He heard the voice getting closer, heard it yell to bring the EMTs, and braced himself for an ass-kicking. The man belonging to the voice leaned over him and peered into his face, tapping his cheek gently.

"_Hey, _DiNutso. You must really _enjoy _getting tossed out along the beltway on your ass. Lucky we found you, or you might've ended up in a body bag and actually _needing _it this time."

Tony tried a smile, but couldn't even manage a smirk. He thought his face might have been frozen, he'd been lying there for so long.

Fornell squeezed his upper arm and moved to make way for the medics.

"You take it easy, kiddo, got some of D.C.'s finest EMTs here to take you to Bethesda and get you warmed up a little. They can give you a quick check, turn you over to me, and you come to my place for pizza and something hot to drink."

"N-not m-mad at-t-t-t me?" Tony stuttered through chattering teeth.

"Hell _no, _Tony, not your fault they had too many people involved in this, something was _bound _to go pear-shaped in the end. If I'd known what the hell was going on myself, I never would've let your director stick you in there. C'mon, let the guys do their thing, sooner they get you loaded up, the sooner we can get you home. You want me to tell Gibbs or should I let Ducky tell him?"

"No t-t-telling him. Just…get me to my place and - l-l-let me d-d-deal with h-him."

"Hmm," Fornell grunted. He knew what Tony meant by 'dealing with him'. It was code for 'not going to tell him anything.'

He knew all too well what had been going on between Tony and Gibbs and the rest of them, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Gibbs had refused to even listen to Fornell about it, insisting he didn't need the Fibbie telling him how to deal with his team.

All Fornell could do was offer Tony support any way he could, even if that meant just having a beer or two with him after work some nights. He'd learned a lot about the kid, and knew, even without DiNozzo saying, how devastated he'd been at Gibbs's abrupt departure, and how wounded he been when Gibbs returned out of nowhere to take 'his' team and desk back, with no warning or any thought or care of Tony's feelings.

Gruff as Fornell was, he knew the decent thing would have been to sit Tony down and explain his intentions, making sure to add how proud he was of the younger man for holding things together in a nearly impossible situation.

Instead all Tony got was the shock of coming into the bullpen with his team and finding Gibbs sitting at his desk with a 'Here I am, you lucky bastards' smirk on his face, and the sum total of five plus years of hard work dumped in a haphazard pile on Tony's old work space. Worse still, Gibbs had started right off making sure the young usurper of his throne knew who the king really was, grinding him under his heel every day until he either broke and became a sniveling toadie, or quit altogether.

Gibbs didn't seem to give a damn which one he did, as long as he caved.

Unfortunately for the older agent, he didn't remember most of DiNozzo's strongest, and best, personality traits. His loyalty, his tenacity, his ability to forgive. Those three qualities that Gibbs used to admire and maybe even love in his SFA now served to anger the man. Sadly for Tony, they clashed with Gibbs's new personality, which had become a lethal mix of pride, memory loss, and a determination to pretend nothing awful had happened to him and that he had done nothing awful to anyone around him as a result of it.

And no one had seemed to mind except for his Senior Field Agent, to which he received annoyance tinged with disbelief. How dense and pig-headed did Tony have to be to not be able to go back to the way things were and be happy with it? Who did he think he was acting like Gibbs's team was ever his?

He couldn't have been that decent of a team leader if the reactions to Gibbs' return were anything to go by. Agents David and McGee were bubbling over in their enthusiasm and willingness to get back to the good life with Gibbs as their boss. Abby had talked non-stop of how difficult things had been without him, how much they needed him, how things were going to be right again. And who had Ziva turned to in the face of certain doom at the hands of Mossad? Certainly not the goofball Gibbs had mistakenly left in charge.

Fornell knew Tony had started taking undercover assignments from Sheppard; just short, minor things at first, and had made it his job to keep an eye on the younger man throughout them, because God knew Gibbs wouldn't know or care. Hell, maybe he was the instigator of them now. Fornell had tried to talk the younger man out of this last one, feeling something hinky about it that he couldn't quite put a finger on, but Tony had been adamant, stressing how important it was for the agency. It may have been, but the Fibbie knew it went a lot deeper than that, that maybe DiNozzo wasn't thinking it through well enough in his mad dash to get out from under Jethro Gibbs's foot. And now the worst had happened, and Tony was being loaded into a waiting ambulance and carted off to Bethesda.

Fornell gripped DiNozzo's freezing cold hand before they shut the doors on him, telling him he'd be waiting at the hospital when he got there. The young man's coloring was nearly gray, and Fornell had no idea as to his injuries, other than they must have been serious enough to prevent the very determined Special Agent from getting himself out of that ditch to find help.

Blood smeared Tony's clothing even through the sodden layers, and the Fibbie had to pretty much assume he'd been shot besides being beaten.

And there would be no Gibbs waiting for him bedside to encourage him to just suck it up and get over it. In fact, it was Gibb's fault he was there in the first place. Fornell cursed the man as he slammed his hand down on his car's steering wheel and followed the ambulance to the hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to my beta Bunny for all her help; she is the sweetest beta ever. And thanks to all who reviewed and favorited 'Reverting'. I seemed to have hit a nerve!**

* * *

Gibbs's boat bourbon was gone by seven o'clock and, not knowing why, he felt the need to have some more, even though he usually allotted himself only two or three fingers while working on the project. He'd started a new one almost as soon as he'd come back from Mexico the second time, and had decided to stay. In his way of thinking back then, he'd had the excuse of an annoying Senior Field Agent, one who purposely provoked and baited him, that gave him the need to start building another boat. Everything that had gone sideways since he'd left and after he came back could be laid at one Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo's size 13 feet.

Having had the benefit of hindsight with the absence of his SFA the past three weeks, Gibbs was now fairly sure that he himself had been a big part of the problem. Why hadn't he seen it then? He was a smart guy, a problem-solver, a top-notch investigator. And yet he had let himself be ruled by emotions, and bad ones, at that. Gibbs didn't have a rule yet about emotions and showing them or suppressing them, but he remembered now the way things had been with him, that he suppressed them for the most part, until he let them loose in the form of anger and impatience.

So why had he let them run roughshod over his good sense, and caused more damage than had already been done by Pin Pin Pula's terrorism?

At first, Gibbs had been thrilled to see his second come down from the heavens that contained the Director's office and—without a word —gather up belongings from his desk and put them in his backpack. Finally _someone _had had the sense that God gave geese and sent the guy packing.

_Couldn't even write a freaking report without screwing it up! _How long had the man been working there? And better still, the rest of his team acted just as thrilled at the younger man's departure, and seemed to relax into a cozy camaraderie that calmed everyone's riled nerves.

He hadn't even asked the Director what had happened to DiNozzo. He'd simply made McGee his acting SFA and continued on until he was informed otherwise.

But barely four days into that easygoing change of ranks, things had started to fall apart.

At times, McGee seemed unsure of how to go about things. Other times, he was surly and self-righteous. And the rest of the time Ziva questioned most of what he told her do. Gibbs needed to be hovering to keep McGee motivated and in the right direction, and Ziva from tearing down whatever self-confidence the young agent had built up for himself. He also found himself doing loads more paperwork than he ever recalled doing. _And _having to figure more things out on his computer. Things were starting to trickle down now.

And those nights he'd spent working on his new boat had also been spent trying hard to remember all he could about Anthony DiNozzo, and why he'd had the agent on his team for so many years. What came back to him came back in bits and pieces, scenes jumping in front of his eyes, like everything _else _he had struggled to remember since his coma.

It was there, _had _been there all along, he had just chosen to blithely ignore it in favor of trampling into the ground someone he perceived as a threat to not only his reputation, but his very job. A job he'd found out unhappily too late that he didn't _really _want to let go of.

Just like when Ziva had head-slapped him in the hospital and brought him crashing back to some sort of reality, a photo retrieved from the back of a book had jolted Gibbs to his senses regarding his second.

It was of himself and DiNozzo at a barbecue, heads thrown back and laughing at something someone there had said. He was laughing. Gibbs. Right there in front of him, evidence that he was having fun, kicking back, relaxing. And someone had thought enough of that moment to capture it on paper and give it to him.

And it occurred to him that maybe, _just maybe, _he was being all wrong-headed about the situation. So he had tried to talk to Ducky and had gotten pretty much nowhere - the man insisted he recall the goodness of his SFA on his own, without any prompting. No outside point of view to taint the memories.

That night, Gibbs had gone home from work thoroughly annoyed with his remaining team and himself, and barricaded himself in his basement with a bottle of Jack and his hand sander. He proceeded to wrack his brain for the lost years of Tony DiNozzo, and at the end of the night, had a very sick feeling about what he had said and done to his second in command.

The next morning, he'd marched up to Director Sheppard's office and demanded to know exactly what was going on with 'his' SFA.

Yes, Tony was on an undercover op. No, she didn't know if he was returning to Gibb's team when it was over.

That was the sum total of what he got from her, and he simmered while she sat across from him smirking and idly rocking in her chair. He knew exactly what she was thinking. And she was right. If DiNozzo chose to move on after this op was over, the blame was squarely on his shoulders. He had been a blind fool, too stubborn to see the forest for the trees, head injury be damned. He all but begged her to tell him when the op was going to be over, and quite tritely she had told him, 'when it was over'. She really had no way of knowing. Fornell was more in charge of things than she was on this. But she warned Gibbs on his way out the door.

"Don't expect Tobias to roll over for you on this one, Jethro. I think even if he _could _tell you the particulars, he _won't._"

"And just what in hell is _that _supposed to mean?"

"You figure it out for yourself, Jethro. You're the lead investigator now."

And that was that. He was summarily dismissed with no other information. And just as Jenny had predicted, he got nowhere with Fornell, the guy who was supposed to be such a good pal. In fact, the Fibbie had snarled at him over the phone and told him to go do something anatomically impossible if he thought he was going to jeopardize Tony's life by telling Gibbs his whereabouts so the man could go storming over to purposely botch DiNozzo's mission.

_Purposely botch a guy's undercover mission? Was Tobias insane? And when did he start calling DiNozzo by anything but his last name, and even then mockingly pronounced?_

Before he could start his rant, Fornell had hung up in his ear.

That had been almost two weeks ago, and while he wasn't trying to talk Fornell into believing he'd reformed and joined the Anthony DiNozzo fan club, he was putting out fires between McGee and Ziva and wrestling with a mountain of paper and computer work that had always been done by his SFA. His _former _SFA. Obviously while Gibbs had been boozing it up on the beach with Mike Franks, Tony had not only been doing Gibb's job, but a good share of McGee's as well.

When Gibbs had asked McGee about it, the younger agent merely shrugged, and said he thought DiNozzo had just been trying to get him to do his work on top of trying to adjust to his unexpected promotion to Senior Field Agent. Gibbs was starting to see yet a bigger picture of what had been going on in his absence, and his gut roiled all the more. It was painful to think about what it must have been like for even the even-tempered DiNozzo not to blow his stack every other hour in the company of two arrogant and insufferable know-it-alls.

Now in his basement with his boat and bourbon, Gibbs tried to quell the tight feeling in his gut, the one that told him something wasn't right with someone important to him. He could do nothing about it, no one had given him any information as to Tony's whereabouts, and he had asked everyone he knew in high places who owed him anything. He'd even threatened some.

Either they really didn't know, or his reputation as an AnthonyDiNozzo-basher had preceded his calls. Didn't matter. He was back in purgatory, and this time, he'd put himself there.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A great big thanks and hug to my beta Bunny of Sparkiebunny, and to all who reviewed/alerted this story. Your reviews and comments are very helpful and so much appreciated!**

* * *

While Gibbs's gut was giving him fits, Fornell was pacing the halls of Bethesda, torn between phoning Gibbs and keeping his word to his younger friend. He wasn't even sure if Gibbs deserved to know what had happened. Part of him believed that the senior agent had seen the light, or at least part of it, and had reformed his evil DiNozzo-torturing ways. But the other part of him knew that Tony himself wasn't ready to accept his boss and mentor with open arms, and wouldn't be happy seeing the man waltz in off the street and make like nothing had ever happened between them.

Didn't matter, really, no one was getting in to see DiNozzo at the moment; he had rushed into an ER with an oxygen mask over his mouth and a heating blanket tucked around him, unconscious now that he had been found and allowed himself be drugged up.

Actually, 'allow' hadn't been the case, he had been barely conscious when Fornell had found him, and unable to protest against the EMTs' ministrations. Doctor Brad Pitt had been notified that his former patient was in the building and would perhaps need his help if the wheezing from his lungs was anything to go by.

When Pitt arrived, he'd expected to be trampled by at least Jethro Gibbs, and had been a bit unnerved to find Agent Tobias Fornell in his place. But disquieting as that was, it wasn't his main concern, and he spared only the time it took to get the pertinent information about what had happened to his new/old patient. He searched Tony's latest medical chart to gather any other details he might need, and spotted the name of DiNozzo's next of kin. His eyebrows rose, but he said nothing; again, it wasn't relevant at the moment. Pitt hurried to join his fellow doctors in the ER, and get the affable agent on the road to recovery, whatever his injuries.

After he disappeared into the room, it was the last Fornell saw of any doctor for almost two hours. The on-duty nurses were of no help, either, and Fornell entertained the thought of calling Gibbs just to get him to intimidate someone into telling him what he needed to know. But he had promised DiNutso, and the kid had had enough people lying to him and breaking promises lately, he wasn't going to add himself to the list.

_Well_, he thought, _I never promised him I wouldn't call Ducky. _

If ever there were a stauncher friend and supporter of Anthony DiNozzo, Fornell didn't know of them, unless you included Abby Sciuto, and unfortunately—for the moment anyways—Abby wasn't necessarily in Tony's camp. When the rubber hit the road, she had let her highly strung emotions get the better of her. After four months of desperately missing Gibbs, she had fallen in line with the rhetoric and propaganda of the very practiced but highly suspect politicos of Team Gibbs, minus DiNozzo of course.

Fornell had attempted to enlighten Abby as to what was happening to her best friend, but she'd refused to hear anything hinky regarding her beloved Gibbs, so the Fibbie had given up and decided to be his own one-man DiNutso support team. He'd talked Tony into going with him to ballgames, bowling, and even a few community suppers, and found to his surprise what a truly interesting and companionable young man Anthony DiNozzo was. He'd come to believe that neither Gibbs nor the others deserved Tony's friendship, at least not at this juncture, and took it upon himself to do what he could to protect the vulnerable agent from the harm his once-upon-a-time family was inflicting.

Tony had returned the favor by opening up to Fornell and coming to him to chew over whatever case he was working on at the time, getting a new set of eyes. Then, one day, the Fibbie had checked his emails only to find out that his young friend was being sent undercover on a less than well-conceived undercover op. Fornell had blown a gasket, raining his wrath down upon Jenny Sheppard and his own supervisor. If no one else was going to advocate for the kid, Fornell would. He was his next of kin, after all.

But they had gone ahead with the mission in spite of Fornell's dire warnings, so he had insisted on being read in and kept in the loop regarding Tony's status and whereabouts. And when his supervisor had called to tell him that things had gone south, Fornell had headed up the search for DiNozzo, wishing like hell he had Gibbs along to track down his boy like he always could when Tony was in trouble.

Now he wished he had Gibbs here to, at the very least, land a hard right cross on his arrogant chin. Maybe it would be enough just to see the look on the man's face when he found out he was no longer listed along with Ducky as the one to call in a medical emergency.

_Well hell_, Fornell thought suddenly. _If they call Ducky, which they probably have already, he'll tell Gibbs_.

Problem solved. Now he just had to brace himself for the shit storm that was sure to happen once the Gunny reached Bethesda.


	4. Chapter 4

**Tons of thanks to Bunny; she actually beta'd these for me while out of town! Could you possibly get a better beta than that? Thanks also to all of you who review and alert/favorite! It's like getting boxes of Godivas!**

* * *

In the depths of his basement, Gibbs poured two more fingers of bourbon into his jelly jar. He usually kept himself to a _minimum _of two while working on any project, but tonight his gut wouldn't leave him alone, and he couldn't work out he gulped it down and hoped the burn would settle him, his cell phone shrilled some unrecognizable tune that Abby had downloaded onto it.

Normally, he would curse it and ignore it, especially if it wasn't work-related. This time, his insides clenched and he sighed heavily as he reached for it.

"Gibbs."

"It's Dr. Mallard, Agent Gibbs. I don't know if it matters to you or not, but he _is _still a member of your team, so it falls to me to-"

"Just _tell _me, Doctor..." Gibbs stood waiting, eyes closed, stomach knotted with dread.

"Special Agent DiNozzo was found roadside and has been brought into Bethesda. I'm on my way to see what I can do to help."

"How bad?" Gibbs asked in a quiet tone.

"Broken right arm. Gunshot wound in his lower back. Possible beginnings of pneumonia. Agent Fornell is with him now. Or I should say he's at the _hospital _with him now, since the lad is still in surgery."

"I'll meet you there in fifteen."

"Jethro..." Ducky's voice was part fatigue, part exasperation. "Do _not _show up there if all you are looking for is a confrontation. I'm afraid I won't be on your side this time around."

"Not gonna confront anyone, Doc. Just wanna see my agent."

"Well, it is pointless to try to discourage you, but mind my words…If you cause any sort of upset, I will be leading the charge to have you tossed out of there."

"Yeah, whatever, Doc. See you there."

Both men sighed as they hung up their phones, neither understanding the other anymore, and wishing it were not so. And things couldn't get anything but worse between them if Gibbs continued his strange behavior towards his now injured second.

Gibbs looked at the jam-jar bourbon glass and calculated in his mind how much he'd had and in what time frame. Shit. Maybe he _wouldn't _be there in fifteen. He checked his watch and wondered if Fornell would've been home from work yet. Lately, the man had been distant and difficult to reach. That was the thanks he got for coming back from Mexico to help him track down a murderer?

Gibbs snapped back to his current problem, not even realizing he was falling back into his oh-so-regular habit now of pointing the finger of blame at everyone else. He punched in Fornell's number futilely, not surprised it went to voice mail.

_Well, hell. _

He decided to call Abby to take him there. She hadn't refused him a single thing since he had been back from his siesta, so convincing her wouldn't take much.

It only took moments before he was pulling the phone away from his ear, almost cringing at the volume of the voice on the other line.

"Tony's _WHERE?_"Abby screeched into the phone. "What happened, why aren't you _with _him?"

"That's why I'm callin' ya, Abs. I had some bourbon and I don't wanna drive like this."

"Good call, I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere. As a matter of fact, stay on the line and tell me exactly what happened while I drive, I'll put it on speaker phone."

Gibbs stumbled around for the right words to tell her what he knew. The fact of the matter was, he really didn't have much of an idea at _all _what had happened, or where Tony had been, or why he had been found 'roadside' or even what that meant. Walking along the road? Passed out in his car along the road? And why had _Ducky _called him and not the hospital staff, wasn't _Gibbs _DiNozzo's next of kin? Someone had told him that not too long ago, and for the life of him he had no idea why he would be listed as such for the abrasive young man. But still, he had been overlooked in favor of Ducky. Was _everyone _trying to prove he was not fit to run his team?

Gibbs shook his head, clearing it a little, realizing where his brain had just gone. He'd just spent the last two weeks giving himself a crash-course in 'Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo' and had been informed by several people in the know that he had been a complete jackhole where the younger man was concerned, and that maybe he needed to take a step back and figure out why. Some brave but crazy people had even mentioned the problem mighthave something to do with _him. _Fornell and Ducky came to mind.

He ambled upstairs, cleaned up the mess he'd made at dinner time, and soon heard a horn blaring outside in the driveway. He locked the door behind him and climbed into the passenger seat of Abby's roadster.

"He'll be fine, Gibbs, he always is!" Abby assured him as she headed out of the driveway and down the road. "You always go sit with him till he's better and can come home, and then you bring him to your place and fuss over him."

"I _sit with him_? For how _long?_" he asked incredulously. "I've gotta be to _work _in a few hours!"

"C'mon, Gibbs, don't you remember? You're his guardian angel_, _his c_hampion_! You're his next of kin, you go in there and huff and puff and intimidate the doctors and nurses and..."

"Abs...I don't even know why Ducky _called _me. _I _don't know anything about DiNozzo's medical history, or even why he'd list me as his next of kin! I can barely-"

Abby rounded on him with an upheld index finger.

"Don't you _dare _say it, Gibbs, you _know _it and you just aren't _getting _it!"

"I'm 'getting it', Abby, I - I just don't _understand _it is all! It's all bits and pieces and flashes in my head, and some of them aren't so good, make me…uncomfortable." Gibbs was going to say 'feel guilty', but he could never admit that, even to Abby. "I - I haven't been treating him very well since I got back, and…now that I _do _remember more, I - I don't know if he'll wanna even _see _me."

"You've done nothing _wrong, _Gibbs, you-"

He put a gentle hand on her arm to stop the oncoming rant.

"That's not true_, _Abs, and we both know it. I've let my second B run my life the past couple months instead of my common sense."

"But you were _hurting. _You were all messed up, you couldn't help it!"

"Yes, I _could, _and I _didn't. _Ducky tried telling me, hell even _Fornell _got on my case about it. I didn't wanna listen, wanted to pretend everything was the same as before I left, even though I didn't have a _clue _how that was. I figured I'd fake it till things fell back into place. Didn't work. Couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that Tony had managed just fine without me."

"He wasn't 'just fine', Gibbs, he was a mess, too. He just...kept it hidden. _Really _hidden."

"Yeah, well, wish I'd known that little fact before I came back."

"You couldn't have, Gibbs. There was no way you could have."

She pulled into the hospital underground parking lot, grabbed the ticket from the machine, circled a few times, then found an incredibly tight space with just enough room for them to squeeze out their doors. Gibbs made no comment, knowing he had had to beg the ride from her due to his own overindulgence, and met up with her around the back of the car.

They walked in together, Abby chatting nervously about how dark and dangerous that type of parking seemed at night. Gibbs barely heard her, lost in his own thoughts.

His mind assured him that all would be well, that he'd get the important facts about his missing agent - mainly that he would be just fine and ready to go home in a day or so - and Gibbs could go back home and go to bed, knowing DiNozzo was safe and sound. It sounded logical in his head, made total sense.

But his roiling gut told him otherwise, and no matter how off-kilter he'd been since his coma, he'd never lost the knowledge that he had to listen to his gut more than his brain.

He tamped down the worry that had been building…the old, but now unfamiliar feeling of dread at seeing his senior agent vulnerable and in pain, and possibly permanently sidelined from his job. But when they walked into the emergency room, he staggered to the side and leaned against the nearest wall. Flashes of a glass room, blue lights, coughing, blood...nightmares. What the hell?

"Gibbs, what _is _it?" Abby hurried to his side. "Should I call a nurse?"

"Tony was - he almost died - of pneumonia?"

"Yes, about a year and a half ago. He had the plague."

"The p-" _Holy mother of God. _

Night after night of sitting in that blue room, reminding him to breathe, helping him through fever dreams...how frail he was when he came home, and then came to work and...almost got killed again. He saw Tony being flung up over that hillside as the car bomb exploded, his face a pasty white color, as he collapsed onto the road.

"_Jesus, _Abs...so much...I've been through _so much _with him...why didn't I _remember_?"

"I dunno, Gibbs. But we'll figure it all out_, _I promise. C'mon, let's go find him and get you some coffee."

She grabbed his arm and dragged him through the waiting room until she found a nurse who looked like she could help them.

"First, we need to find Tony, Tony DiNozzo. He's here with Dr. Mallard. Then we need coffee, _good _coffee, and lots of it."

The nurse backed up slightly at the barrage, then gathered her wits. "Let's go to the admissions desk and see what we can find out, then we'll work on the coffee."

"This is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS. Tony is his senior field agent, he's Tony's next-of-kin!" Abby followed her, dragging Gibbs by the arm as if he was unable to make his own decision as to whether to follow them or not. "Ducky - Doctor Mallard - is his doctor. He called Gibbs about half an hour ago..."

The RN leaned over the nurse's station, and got the attention of a fellow RN.

"Hey, Joanne, these folks are from NCIS, they're looking for an Anthony DiNozzo, also from NCIS...brought in maybe an hour ago."

"Could you spell the last name for me please?"

"Yes. Big _D_, little_ i_, big _N_, little _ozzo_," Abby supplied, in the time-honored Tony way of spelling his last name.

"Ah, okay. And you're Agent Tobias Fornell?"

"Uh, no, I'm Special Agent _Jethro Gibbs_!" he ground out.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you're not listed as his next of kin. I can't give you any information about his condition."

"Are you _sure _he's not listed on there somewhere? He's been Tony's next of kin for _years, _even since Baltimore!"

"That name is nowhere on his records. I can direct you to Doctor Mallard, but none of us can give you any information about Mr. DiNozzo."

"Fine!" Abby shouted, grabbing Gibb's arm again and dragging him from the nurse's station before he blew his top. "Page Ducky - Doctor Mallard - and tell him we need to see him. We'll wait over here."

Gibbs wrenched his arm out of Abby's grasp and stormed away, determined to find the M.E. without having to wait for the powers that be to decide to page him. He actually had no idea where he was going, he just knew that Tony needed him. And he didn't know how or why he knew, or how he was going to get to see him. But buttons had been pushed in his brain, and next-of-kin or not, he had a mission to complete.

About half-way down the hallway, someone came out of a side room; Gibbs recognized him instantly.

"Fornell!" he bellowed to the man's back.

Fornell froze mid-step. He'd been expecting it, might as well face the music. Which always seemed a hell of a lot easier when it wasn't one Leroy Jethro Gibbs calling the tune. He stopped and turned around, plastering a patient smile on his face.

"Gibbs," he answered quietly, waiting for the man to jump down his throat. The look in his eyes was almost feral. What the hell? _This _because he had been replaced as DiNozzo's next-of-kin? Why the hell would he even _care?_

"Where's Ducky, is he with him?"

"Tony's in surgery right now, they're setting his arm and cleaning and stitching up the holes in him."

"How many?" Gibbs asked through grated teeth.

"How many holes? Well, let's see. One front and back where a bullet passed through him. Several others where the side of the road met up with him."

"_They threw him out of a CAR?_" The already dangerous look on Gibbs's face turned positively murderous.

Something clicked in Fornell's head. The bear had remembered, at least partially, and had been poked with a very sharp stick. It was best that the Fibbie tread lightly if he didn't want a hard swipe of a really sharp claw.

"There were no witnesses. We think it happened early this morning, when it was still dark."

Gibbs wanted to scream, but remembered what Ducky had warned him about. He would have no back-up to keep him from getting tossed out of the place if he caused a scene. He shoved his anger down, settling for a lethal growl.

"Tony was laying there roadside in the rain since before daylight this morning? And no one saw him?"

"He was in the tall brush, down an embankment. We found him when a traffic copter spotted him."

"Ducky said he had the start of pneumonia."

"Nothing confirmed. Doctor Pitt took X-rays, and he's gonna get back with me in about half an hour."

Gibbs stared at the man, wondering when they had changed roles in Tony's life, and if they would ever change back. _Fornell _was DiNozzo's best bud and confidante now. The man who had done nothing but taunt his SFA at every opportunity was in charge of Tony's health and well-being, something that Gibbs now intrinsically knew had always been _his _duty, his _privilege. _Until a madman had taken it all away from him and given him back a psyche that told him Tony was the enemy, a bad guy not to be trusted.

Fornell stared back, reading his old friend's mind through his eyes.

"He _needed _somebody, Jethro," the Fibbie said quietly, almost in apology. "You took off without any kind of warning, left him stranded in the middle of enemy territory, his _own damned TEAM _was after his head, fer Chrise' sake! Like _he _was the one to blame for it all!

"And God _knows _you had reasons for what you did, but it didn't make it any easier for him. They still used him as a whipping post, and then you came back and tossed him out on his ass in front of his team, the team _he_ held together against allodds...and they were vindicated. They saw how you treated him and knew they'd been right all along - DiNozzo was an incompetent fraud who got by on his charm and the fact that he was your favorite - not by any talent or hard work on his part."

Gibbs remained silent as his friend continued.

"Well, I just couldn't stand by and watch it and not do something to help him. I may have teased the hell out of him in the bullpen, but that didn't mean I didn't care about 'im. And I found out what _you _found out and then forgot - what a loyal, forgiving, and good-hearted schmuck the guy is, who didn't deserve the scorn and grief you guys were heaping on him. You guys were his _family, _Jethro, you _especially _had a place in his heart no one else did, or ever had. And I watched every one of you but Ducky and Jimmy rip that heart out piece by piece.

"So yeah, when he told me he needed a new next-of-kin cause his old one was wallowing in sorrow and Coronas down in Mexico, I stepped up to the plate. And I don't regret it one damned bit. And if you think you're going to get it away from me without proving you deserve to have it back, you're in for one god damned big ass-whoopin', cause I'll take ya _on, _Jethro, just like I did a couple _years _ago when you found all those bottles of pills in his desk and made such a scene in the bullpen that he came knockin' on my door.

"I _warned _you then, Gibbs, and I meant it. You make it right with him, _his _way, or I _will _make him my next team lead. You're not the _only _one he'll work for anymore. I might be the crazy uncle, but right now I'm a better option to him than his dad. You keep that in mind when they let you in to see him - if he even _wants _you in to see him. _You _might have had a change of heart, Jethro, but _his_ is still the way you left it when he took this idiotic undercover op. You cause him anymore pain, I'll have you crossed off the visitor's list, and you knowI can and _will _do it! Am I clear, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs's eyes narrowed and he straightened to his full height in an attempt to tower over Fornell, but the Fibbie refused to back down in the slightest. In fact, he inched up nearly on his toes to close the gap. The NCIS agent said nothing at first, but the corner of his mouth quirked up just the slightest bit, and he backed off a little.

"Crystal, Agent Fornell. And Tobias…"

Fornell's own eyes narrowed at the threat he perceived to be on its way.

"Yeah, Jethro," he answered levelly, but with still a bit of heat.

"Thanks for taking care of him for me. I know I - I got everything ass-backwards with him soon as I got back to the bullpen the first time. I've got a lot of ground to cover before I can ask him to trust me again... and I know he's in surgery now 'cause I drove him to take that op, and I've gotta figure out how I'm gonna deal with that, but…I care about 'im, Tobias, a _lot, _my brain just wasn't firing on all eight cylinders, _still _isn't. I had to really dig around to make it show me what I was looking for, that I was seeing things all wrong about him. And now I need to make right what I did to him. But I will. It may take me a while, but I'll keep at it, and maybe get back some of what I lost with him."

"Well, Jethro, that's more than I've heard you say at one time since I've known ya. And it's probably the _smartest _thing I've heard you say since I've known ya. Just know that I'll be watching you like a hawk. You _and _your toadies. I'll call them on their attitudes just like I have Sciuto. Maybe they'll follow your example and figure it out, too."

"Yeah, hope so. They're actually both pretty scared he's not coming back to the team. They never realized how much Tony contributed right under their noses. Or how much he kept me from throttling them in public."

"Yeah, well, you all better hope it's not too little, too late. Much as I'd love to have DiNutso as my second, he belongs with you guys. Just not the way things are now. I'm counting on you guys to make it right, Jethro. Starting now. Let's go find some coffee before Doctor Pitt comes to talk to me. Us. Talk to us. Then we'll find Ducky and see what he can tell us. Go tell Sciuto to sit tight till we get back. I'll let the nurses know where we're going in the meantime. I've got a feeling it's going to be a very long night."


	5. Chapter 5

Ducky had just come out of the doctor's lounge with a cup of tea to see Fornell and Gibbs 'discussing' things in the middle of the hallway.

"Oh dear..." he said to himself, and found a spot to put the hot liquid down while he went to play referee. He hung back a bit, waiting to see where their somewhat heated conversation would lead, and found he needn't have worried, hearing 'coffee' and his name mentioned while the FBI agent squeezed Gibbs's shoulder. Perhaps Jethro didn't know yet about Anthony's change of heart concerning his next-of-kin.

"Agent Gibbs. Tobias," Ducky greeted them, striding up as if he hadn't been eavesdropping for the last minute or so. "I was just on my way to find you. Doctor Pitt has informed me that we need only keep a sharp eye on Anthony's lungs. He's not going to treat him with anything yet, as he doesn't think he aspirated enough rainwater to cause real problems for him. Lord knows he'll have _enough _to worry about with his _other _injuries."

Ducky looked back and forth between the two men, trying to figure out exactly how to broach the subject of next-of-kin. Boss or not, former next-of-kin or not, Gibbs was not privy to Tony's medical information without DiNozzo's consent. He had already divulged more than he should have in front of the NCIS agent, and was in no mood to go toe-to-toe with either man at the moment.

Somehow, Gibbs read his mind, or perhaps his face, he was never sure which with the man. Maybe both.

"I know about Tobias being his next-of-kin, Ducky," Gibbs admitted quietly, and the M.E. was sure he saw a glint of sadness in the agent's tired eyes. "It's okay. I'm gonna go find some coffee."

Gibbs ambled off, shoulders hunched, and the two other men watched him go.

"I take it he's had a bit of an epiphany with young Anthony."

"He's remembering without really understanding, I think. A lot for him to figure out; up until now he didn't _need _to, just ignored it all hoping he could make things go his way."

"Yes, well, it's time for him to learn that not everything goes _his_ way no matter _how _much he thinks it should. The world did not stop turning because he relived a painful past. _None _of us get that luxury."

Fornell gave him an odd look of surprise at the M.E.'s seeming callousness.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Tobias, I know all too well how hellish this has been for Jethro, and that some of his behavior was truly out of his control...but it has been months since his injury, and if he can't work out his emotions regarding his team, then he isn't fit to be their leader."

"Regarding his team? You mean it's gone farther than just Tony?"

"I'm afraid so. Little did any of them know the complex social structure that held their merry band together. Anthony has not only for years absorbed the brunt of Jethro's wrath, but often diffused it before it could erupt. Without Special Agent DiNozzo, they're fragmented. They lack cohesion. They are organs in the same body functioning as separate parts, but not as a true team. I knew that it would happen, but it took Jethro much longer to realize it. He had his mind made up about how things were when he got back and couldn't be convinced otherwise. Now I'm afraid it may be too late for the team to recover."

"We'll see, Ducky. Let's go find out what we can about our boy, then let Jethro and Abby know. No use keeping them in the dark, they'll just harass the nurses till they get thrown out otherwise."

Less than an hour later, the four of them were seated around the waiting room, staring at coffee and tea cups, conversation at a minimum. Tony had been moved out of surgery into recovery, and would soon be placed in an intensive care unit where one of them could wait for him to awaken. Even though it had always been customary, even required, that Gibbs be the one Tony woke up to, it was no longer a given by any means, and he understood it. It didn't mean he had to like it.

Sitting in the waiting room, Gibbs remembered many bedside vigils, aside from the days of Tony's struggles through the plague. Concussion checks, force-feeding pills and food, and—stranger yet—scenes of his basement where the younger agent sat on a makeshift bench and chatted happily with him about sports, old cases and general mysteries of life.

Something was blossoming in him with the memories, some sort of contentment…but as soon as his emotions landed on that, he became agitated at the thought that that was all he would have left: memories, and no more chances to make new ones. Why had no one _told _him this was how things had been with his second, why leave him to his own devices and crappy memory?

He looked up at the two men chatting across from them, and realized sadly that they _had, _both Ducky and Fornell, but he had angrily turned on them, accusing them of telling him how to do his job, how to feel about his team. Back then, he'd asked both of them just exactly what it was about DiNozzo that they wanted to take sides against Gibbs. Back then he'd felt like they were ganging up on him, trying to get him to go back to Mexico and leave the team leading to the younger generation. His gut had told him otherwise, but his ego had been almost as bruised as his heart, and it was easy as hell for him to get defensive.

Meanwhile, Abby sat staring at her hands, feeling totally chastened by the turn of events along with the looks that were being cast her way by Fornell. He had tried to warn her and she had insisted he was 'way wrong' about it. She recalled the morning he had stormed into her lab and given her a piece of his mind.

_**FLASHBACK  
**_

_He found her dancing happily amidst her machines and computer screens sporting her 'Silver Fox' and he did a slow burn. She was supposed to be Tony's best bud, and yet she'd abandoned him emotionally in one of his times of worst need, had all but turned her back on him in favor of the 'popular kids'. Fornell calmed himself before he went in, hoping to keep his tirade as neutral as possible._

_"Tobias!" she shouted at him over the blaring music, diving for the remote to shut it off. If Fornell was there, something was going on. "What's going on, is Gibbs here? Is he okay? Why are you here?"_

_"No, Gibbs is not here!" he harrumphed impatiently. "Nor is he planning on __being here! I've come to talk about DiNozzo."_

_He saw her face blanch, and he was glad for it. Maybe now she'd think about how important he was to her._

_"Is he okay? Is he hurt? Does Ducky know?"_

_"And you care because...?"_

_"Because he's my friend, Toby, now TELL me!"_

_Fornell liked Abby well enough, but not enough to not bristle at her ordering him around like that. She may have gotten away with it with Gibbs, but, like DiNozzo had been told OH so many times, he wasn't Gibbs, either._

_"BACK off, Sciuto, I didn't come down here for you to jump in my shit. DiNutso's fine, he's in the bullpen working his ass off."_

_"So why are you __down here?" she calmed at his reprimand and the news that Tony was safe at home._

_"Do you have any idea what that guy is going through or have you been too caught up in your Gibbs-worshiping that you haven't noticed? Or maybe you just don't care! Cause I was just up there to see him and he's THIS far away from self-combusting!" His voice was raised as he held fingertips a mere quarter inch apart. "I would have thought at least YOU would have been doing all you could to help him, but by the LOOKS of it, you're trying to run him off like the other two boneheads up there!"_

_"Run him OFF?" Abby shrieked. "Why would I ever want to run Tony off, how can you-"_

_"How many times have you told him he's doing a good job? As opposed to how many times you've told him he's not Gibbs, as if he needs to be reminded of that fact every five minutes?"_

_"What has he been telling you? He's WHINING again and for no reason, if Gibbs were here, he'd-"_

_"Head slap him? Go ahead and try it, see if he comes to work tomorrow morning. And NO, he hasn't said a god damned WORD to me about it, hasn't needed to, I've been around you guys enough lately, and so has my team! I see the way you guys treat him, like it's __his fault Gibbs took a hike and left him high and dry with a team that won't respect or obey him! I can't do anything about him staying here, believe me, I've TRIED getting him over to the Hoover Building, but for some stupid reason he thinks he needs to be here to protect his so-called team! Mark my words, if something happens to him out in the field because McGee or Ziva thumbed their nose at his orders, by God I'll have them up on charges myself. And YOU can have it on that snow white conscience of yours that you joined their Tony-bashing club!"_

_He turned on his heel and stormed out, furious at her for being so Gibbs-obsessed and obtuse. Well, he'd had his say; he figured she'd either come around or not. Damn Gibbs for leaving and then again for not staying gone. Coming back to help Ziva had done even MORE damage to the former SFA just trying to get his bearings and figure out how to rein in his recalcitrant team and lab goth. Fornell shook his head and slammed the button for the elevator, deciding he'd take DiNozzo to the Adams House rooftop grill after work tonight, just to reward him for coming to work today._

**. . .**

Abby had been shocked at the fury in Fornell's eyes - she had certainly seen the man angry before, but this went beyond any bitching about territory or case procedures. He was spitting nails, and over Tony of all people. She knew the Fibbie's bark had always been worse than his bite when it came to Gibb's SFA, but now he was defending the guy like Gibbs used to when someone had harmed DiNozzo in some way. Abby had accused Tony of trying to take Gibbs's place, when really, Fornell had done that for Tony. Or at least attempted to fill the gaping hole a bit.

She had ignored the man, cussing him out after he left for poking his nose in where it didn't belong. This was a family matter, and Fornell wasn't...

Abby looked across the waiting room at the man. He looked years older than she could remember, and his eyes kept a hard glare to them. He was pissed at all of them except Ducky, who had tried singing the same tune to her one day until she walked out on him in impatient disgust. But Fornell had persisted, at least in being a friend to DiNozzo, and could live with a clean conscience for his part in this.

The rest of them, save for Ducky and Palmer, not so much.

Abby had been so devastated at Gibbs's departure, and worse with his second time leaving, that she had only seen her own pain, and then taken it out on someone who was in as much pain, or perhaps more, than herself. And in that world of hurt, she had let herself be swayed into thinking things that just weren't true.

Tony hadn't been disrespecting her hero, he had been doing the best he could in a bad situation. And maybe Gibbs held a teeny-tiny bit of blame in this whole debacle. _Okay_, she admitted, _maybe more than teeny-tiny.  
_  
And now they were gathered, yet again, in the emergency waiting room of Bethesda, for one hopelessly unlucky Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, and all but a couple of them would have some explaining to do as to their behavior towards him.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you beta Bunny for all your help! Thanks to all who have reviewed/favorited/alerted. If I haven't responded personally to you yet, I apologize, I have been trying to do it a little at a time and get caught up. Nonetheless, it's all greatly appreciated!**

* * *

At first, Tony couldn't figure out where he was; then it slowly dawned on him in Technicolor. He was in hell. He had died a slow, painful death in that rain-filled ditch, and now he was in hell, waiting to be given his next assignment. Which would probably be spying on Hitler and his cronies.

What wasn't totally numb on his body ached, and he was nauseated beyond reason. And some bug was buzzing in his ear. Wasn't that adding insult to injury? Or in his case, death? Even bugs wouldn't leave him in peace. He swatted at it, or at least he thought he did. His brain told his arm to reach his hand up and get rid of the thing, but he didn't think his arm heard the order.

" 'thony. Can...'ear me?"

What the...? Flies could talk in hell? Or was he in a low-budget Pixar movie? Either answer was intriguing, so he listened.

"Anthony, it's 'ime for...to...up."

The fly's voice was familiar. It was buzzing again. Since when was he on a first name basis with a fly? Trent Kort came to mind. But nothing else was making sense, and his back hurt ferociously. Screw the fly, I'm going back to...

"Anthony David DiNozzo, I am _talking _to you! You must open your eyes at once and pay attention to me!"

Wowser. The fly was mad at him. He wondered what an angry fly could do. Maybe go into one of his ears or mouth. Or up his nose...that thought terrified him a little. He'd read a comic book as a kid about a guy that had to have reconstructive surgery on his face, and while it was covered in bandages, a fly got in under them. When they took the bandages off, he had a fly head for a head.

Tony had never forgotten that one. And now a fly was talking to him and maybe he had been in a terrible accident and now he had bandages on his face and the fly was...

Touching his face. Oh God. He flinched and tried to smack it away, which led to more pain, and worse, to his stomach heaving up to his eyeballs. There was nothing he could do to stop it; no famous DiNozzo maxim could stem the tide of vomit from escaping his throat into his mouth...a gentle hand smoothed his head, and he hoped for all he was worth that it wasn't Gibbs and he wasn't hurling on the man's favorite suede Sears boots. That wouldmake Tony _wish_he was in hell.

"There, there, my dear boy, take it slowly now, you're alright. I'll ring a nurse to bring you some Compazine. Here, rinse your mouth and spit it out into the basin."

Ducky. Oh, thank _God._ He took the water into in past trembling lips, some of it dribbling down his chin, and tried his best to rinse away the acid that was eating the inside of his mouth. When he spit it out, more went down his chin, and a damp cloth was tenderly smoothed across his mouth, and then his forehead. He wanted to say 'thank you', to tell the man how relieved he was that it hadn't been Gibbs tending to him like this, _seeing _him like this.

"D-Ducky? Whah...app'nd?"

"You were shot and thrown from a car along the highway."

The M.E. saw no need to sugarcoat anything with the younger man; Tony was well able to handle bad news, especially when it concerned his own health.

"Bad op..." he groaned hoarsely. "Went - pear-shaped...thought I'd - die in that ditch..."

"Well you didn't. Tobias found you, thank God. Though you were in quite a state by the time he did. He's waiting outside, as soon as you're strong enough to see him."

"Just - Toby, not - Abby or -" Tony hesitated, not really wanting to know the answer. But Ducky read his mind.

"Abby _and _Gibbs are out there, too. As are Timothy and Ziva, and I imagine, by now, Mr. Palmer."

"Waiting to..." Tony tried to catch his breath, the pain from wrenching his body up to puke over the side of the bed catching up to his brain. "To..."

"They are all waiting to see you, dear boy. Gibbs is sick with worry, although he's keeping it well-hidden. It seems he's come to his senses a bit since you've been out of his clutches; I dare say he's wallowing in a fair amount of guilt. That being said, he does _not _deserve absolution from you just yet, or perhaps ever if you choose to not grant it to him. He was abominable to you, and your supposed teammates were not much better. I would grant _none _of them your forgiveness without a thorough and heartfelt explanation on their part as to why they behaved as they did. In other words, dear boy, if you _do _decide to take the high road, yet again, I would milk it for all it's worth if I was you. Do _not _make it easy on them."

"Don't...worry, Ducky...still too raw to...smooth over everything...with them...yet."

"Understandably so." The older man gently clasped Tony's wrist and squeezed it. "I'm just going to call for a nurse, I won't leave you until you're ready. Lie back and try to relax a bit, I'll see about getting you some ice chips for your throat."

"Thanks...Ducky...for...understanding..."

"You're quite welcome, Anthony. I'm only sad that it takes this kind of catastrophe to make family members see what damage they have been inflicting on their loved one. I hope it well and truly sets them on their ears, especially one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He of all people knew better."

"But he didn't, Ducky." Tony offered quietly as he let the older man tuck him back in under the stiff sheets. "Not really. He...just thought he did. It was the coma..."

"Do _not _make excuses for the man, Anthony," Ducky chided, his voice quiet but firm. "He knew better as a human being not to treat another human being the way he treated you. He was arrogant, and foolhardy, and a treacherous leader when he enlisted the others to follow him in that behavior! He was..."

"Scared, Ducky. He'd just gotten his legs... cut out from under him and then he... had to come back and try to salvage what he thought he had left of his life... any way that he could. Not saying he was...right, just...sayin' he wasn't...coming from a very...good place."

"Yes. Well, say and think what you want, my dear boy, I will continue to keep the opinion I have of him at the moment. If I am unkind to him in front of you, you are forewarned."

He gave Tony's cheek a mild, affectionate pat, and reached for the buzzer to call a nurse. Tony closed his eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. It occurred to him he hadn't even asked the M.E. about his injuries, they had been so intent on discussing his team's short comings regarding their treatment of him.

At the moment, he didn't care about either, he just wanted some ice for his throat and something to calm the roiling in his stomach, and that was as far ahead as he could manage to think. Ducky had promised him both, so he closed his eyes and tried to get his mind off his predicament and how, or _if_, he was going to let his boss and team mates back into his life.

As difficult as the undercover op had been, it had been a relief to be away from the never-ending assault on his glaring faults and poor leadership abilities. Maybe he could keep getting along without them in his life, at least on such an intimate basis as their heavy work schedule demanded. What was the old saw, 'Familiarity breeds contempt'?

Maybe he _would _finally take Fornell up on his standing offer to join his team. He'd gotten to really like the gruff Fibbie, and he couldn't be any worse to work for than his current boss. He was too tired to even contemplate the thought at the moment as he fought to gain some sort of equilibrium with his rebellious body.

_Well,_ he pondered. _At least my head and face aren't bandaged. And Ducky didn't turn out to be a fly after all._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks again to Bunny for all her amazing betas, and to all who review/favorite/alert, it's all so much appreciated!**

* * *

It was a couple more hours before Tony was ready to see anyone, and Ducky had advised the younger crew to go home and contact him in the morning as to whether or not they would get in to see the Very Special Agent. They left, but reluctantly, while Gibbs and Fornell took turns pacing and cursing. Little was said between them. Gibbs was at a loss for words, and Fornell was still too infuriated to really have any decent sort of conversation. The NCIS agent knew it, so held his tongue in any case. Both men looked up when a nurse called for the DiNozzo family, but Gibb's face fell when she said Fornell's name.

_Well, what did he expect? _Fornell thought with righteous anger. The man had basically abandoned his surrogate son, turned his back on him without so much as an explanation, and then treated him like dirt when he returned from his little pity party on the shores of Mexico. _Let him stew on it for a while. See what it's like to be shunned by someone you love. _

Fornell followed the nurse down the hallway, leaving a confused and morose Gibbs to come to some sort of terms with the turn of events in his life.

Gibbs collapsed onto the hard waiting room couch, rubbing his face hard with both hands, and set about waiting for whatever came next. He decided to take the time he had to sort out what he would say to Tony, why he had done the things he had done, how he needed to be understood…

How _he needed..._

Even to himself he was beginning to sound like a broken record.

Shannon and Kelly were gone and not coming back. Ever. He had dealt with it before, he would deal with it again; that's what Marines did, _they dealt_, with really bad situations, and made it through to the other side or died trying. And taking his anger and grief out on someone whom, he'd finally remembered, had never once risen up to smite him back—no matter how many times Gibbs had deserved it—was not dealing with it. It was suppressing it by being mean and petty.

Gibbs didn't delude himself into thinking he'd always been a glass half full kind of guy. He knew he'd been on the half-empty side since his girls had passed. But he knew in his gut that he'd never been as relentlessly nasty as he'd been with DiNozzo after his coma, even when he was totally vexed with the younger man. And he had to figure out why it was that he had behaved that way, or he was pretty sure this new house of cards he had built was fast on its way to toppling in on him.

**. . . . .  
**

Fornell had already gotten all the gruesome particulars of Tony's injuries in layman's terms from Ducky, but he was still unprepared to see his favorite Senior Field Agent so pale and miserable-looking. He was wishing he'd gone to the hospital gift shop and at least bought some balloons while he was waiting...

"DiNutso!" he chirped cheerily, ignoring his uneasiness. "You're lookin' better than when we dragged you out of that ditch this morning."

Tony tried a smile; he really wanted to please the man who had taken it on himself to keep him from sinking totally under the surface and never coming back up while Gibbs was gone and then when he came back. But he was just too damned tired and worn down to even fake a smile, much less fake his emotions any longer.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for that…by the way," Tony managed hoarsely, and cleared his throat. "Thought maybe...I was gonna become...road kill before long."

Fornell knew the man was trying, and loved him for it, but it hurt him to see Tony not even close to actually being okay.

"Hey, kiddo..." he soothed, moving into the room further to stand by the bed and grasp Tony's forearm.

How the hell did Gibbs do this time after time, the waiting and worrying, and then the walking into the hospital or emergency room to see his boy pretending to be perfectly fine when he was barely able to see or think straight? Maybe even gushing blood or sporting a cast? Fornell changed the subject in his head.

"We wouldn't have stopped till I found ya. We were all lookin' for ya, even your boneheaded boss Jethro. Nice cast, like the color..."

DiNozzo looked down at his arm and, for probably the first time, really noticed his arm was covered palm to elbow with a bright pink plaster cast. He vaguely remembered being asked what color he wanted, and subsequently bursting into hysterical giggles from the combination of pain and hypothermia and whatever they had given him to combat them both.

So he had chosen flamingo pink. Great. As if he didn't already have enough to live down. Blowing a joint undercover sting with the FBI and then getting tossed out roadside on his head was not going to go over well with the Director. Now both Gibbs _and _Jenny could fire him at the same time.

"You know how you're always joking about me joining your team? Do you...never mind. Dumb question."

"I know what you're gonna ask, and no, it's _not _a dumb question. I just think you should talk to your team before you make any real decision on it."

Tony snorted softly. "Yeah. My team. Talk about a joke."

"Not gonna say I wouldn't want you on my team, Anthony. Contrary to your own opinion of yourself, there're lots of people in the alphabet agencies who'd _love _to have you on their team. They're just not willing to go up against Leroy Jethro Gibbs to do it."

Tony took a long drink of the now-cool ice water that had been brought to him, and leaned back into the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes as if he could blot out the past.

"We both know that's not the case anymore; Gibbs has been working overtime trying to make me quit so he can make McGee his SFA. Don't think that me getting tossed out of a car on my head is gonna change anything. Hell, the docs might've even found his boot print on my ass when they cut my clothes off me. Don't remember who actually shoved me out the door."

"Do you _want _to go to another team? I mean, I _know _they've made it rough on ya, but you know too, that new team members can make your life just as miserable for ya, especially if they think you've got something to prove; being on a premiere team for so long, they're not gonna make it easy on ya, no matter _how _much experience you got."

"And thus you see my dilemma. Believe it or not, I'm not as flexible as I used to be, I don't have that tolerance for that kind of crap anymore. You'd think working for Gibbs for six years would've have toughened me up, but...now I'm just tired."

"Yeah, you are, but mostly from the op from hell and then laying in a cold, wet ditch for half a day. All I'm saying is, don't jump out of the fire into the frying pan. Let the mud settle for a few days, then if you're still feeling the seven-year itch, we'll talk again. Still got your paperwork in my file cabinet from the time you ran away from home a few years ago. You're welcome to come on board if you really want to, but ya gotta be sure. I'm not gonna get my ass chewed like grass under a mulchin' mower—Gibbs of course being the mower—just to have you change your mind a few weeks later. Just so ya know, kiddo."

Tony smiled a little, eyes still closed, and nodded.

"Speaking of Gibbs, he's waiting to see you. I didn't say one way or the other if he could, I'm leaving it up to you, totally your call. But…he's had some time to think some things through while you were out doing Sec Nav's bidding, and let's just say he didn't like what he saw in the mirror when it all came crashing down on him. Don't get me wrong, I'm still plenty pissed at him, but I'm not a total hardass. I know he had an excuse for being off-kilter.

"But head injury or not, he knew better than to treat you like he did, and he kept doing it anyways. I have some ideas why, but you make _him _explain it to you. You make him look you in the eye and tell you why he thinks he did it. That goes for McGee and David, too. Don't you even _think _of letting any of them off the hook for their rotten behavior. If they can't own their own shit, then you move on. Let Timmy try to put up with Jethro's tantrums and not end up dumping rat poison in his morning coffee. And let David try to interrogate and get the results _you _get without getting her ass booted back to her father and Mossad. And let Gibbs break in a new agent while he's reffing the McGee and David pissing war and listening to Abby whine 24/7 that it's _his _fault you're gone and he needs to 'fix' it.

"And just so you know, Gibbs is…subdued. And I mean knows-he's-done-wrong-tail-between-his-legs subdued. He freaked out when you went off the radar, and then hounded me _and _my Director night and day to do more to find you. He forced himself to remember a lot of things that he really wanted to keep buried about you. So...guess what I'm saying is, don't let 'im off the hook, but don't hold him over the fire too long. He's not in a real good place right now. And mad as I am at him, he's still my friend, and I don't want to see him in so much pain anymore. It needs to end, and you may need to be the bigger man and take the high road yet again with him. Just think about it; see him or don't see him, either way, I'll back you up."

"Yeah. Okay. I - yeah, let 'im come in, just - maybe - let one of the nurses know in case things get ugly and they can help me out."

"I'll do ya one better, I'll wait out in the nurse's lounge with Ducky, and if things go south, we'll get 'im out of here for ya. I think you may end being surprised, though. Give it a shot, that way he can't say you never gave him a chance to redeem himself even if it _does _get ugly."

"Yeah. Alright. Send him in before he has a stroke and goes into another coma. Just keep an ear out for flying furniture."

Fornell chuckled and reached up and squeezed Tony's shoulder.

"He really does love ya, you _know _that. You're his bambino; he'd jump in front of a speeding freight train to save you. He just forgot that for a while. Give him another chance. Just don't make it too easy for him or he'll forget and do it all over again."

"Yeah, okay. And Tobias...thanks. For this, and for the last few months. Not sure what I would've done if you, ya know…hadn't…you know..."

"Yeah, I _know, _kid. And you would have survived, but it's doubtful you would have done it without murderizing somebody first. Take it easy, it gets too much for you, buzz the nurse; she'll let me know to rescue you. In the meantime, I'm gonna go get some decent food and coffee. See ya in a bit."

"Okay. Grab me pizza for breakfast while you're out. Need to build up my strength so I can get out of here."

"Will do, DiNutso. Chao."

"Chao, Toby." Tony smirked at the use of Fornell's shortened first name, knowing it irked the man, and settled back to prepare for his conversation with the supposedly 'new and improved' Leroy Jethro Gibbs.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks yet again to Bunny for her beta'ing, and to all who read and review/favorite/alert this story. All remaining mistakes are yours truly. I was going to shout out to all of you reviewers, and then found out I had over 50, and thought you'd rather have me actually have me spend my time writing a chapter instead. But I DO love my reviews, even the armchair flamers, who sometimes help me step back for a bit and perhaps get a different perspective to my stories.**

**And a shout-out to Kalvinanne, who reviewed/alerted this and several other stories of mine but I couldn't contact through the site.**

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Tony took a deep breath and waited for the shit storm that was about to rain down around him. He didn't fool himself into believing for a moment that the upcoming 'chat' with his boss was going to lead to anything but pain and upheaval for both of them. He had a lot he needed to say to the man, and no idea how he was going to say it without sounding like a whiny spoilsport. He knew exactly how he felt - but expressing those deep and roiling emotions was something that just wasn't _done _in the DiNozzo family. You either learned to suck up and deal with whatever was bothering you, or better yet, to ignore it all together. And it was pretty much ditto for Gibbs. They could be at it for a few days, at that rate.

But Tony wasn't emotionally-challenged enough to not realize it needed to be done, for things to be sorted between the two of them one way or the other. They couldn't go on like this; _he _couldn't, at any rate. He wasn't at all sure what Gibbs was hoping to gain from talking with him. Maybe just some closure so he wouldn't have to feel guilty after he transferred him off his team.

Well, he guessed he'd find out soon enough.

Gibbs slipped silently into the room, and stood by the door, as if waiting to be ordered back out by its occupant. He heard Gibbs swearing in under his breath, and thought to himself that they weren't exactly off to an auspicious start.

"Something you want to share with me, Boss?" Tony asked quietly from his bed.

"Tobias said you didn't look bad. I shoulda known he was lyin' like a rug."

"You look a little rough around the edges _yourself, _Boss. Have a seat. Tobias said he was going to get some decent coffee, maybe he'll share."

Gibbs cringed at the flatness of DiNozzo's tone; the kid was just being polite, something that had been drilled into him from the day he was born. And he felt a stab of something in his chest that he wasn't sure what it was. Jealousy towards Fornell? He was just another visitor now, someone Tony felt obligated to entertain, regardless of his feelings towards him.

But in the end, he had brought this on himself, and if he couldn't find a way to fix it, it wouldn't be DiNozzo's fault.

"Don't think 'Tobias' is feeling the need to share much of anything with me at the moment." He emphasized the Fibbie's name, his subconscious making a dig at his SFA's new familiarity with the man, and he felt a strange surge of jealousy towards Fornell. Tony was finally going to leave him and go to work for the 'other side'.

Tony ignored the barb that bordered on self-pity. "So. What can I _do _for you, Boss?"

"I dunno, DiNozzo. Not sure if you even _want _me here, but...had to try, anyways."

"If you're here to ease your conscience, power to ya. But don't expect me to just pretend that things are the same since four months ago, 'cause they're not. I hit my limit in the pretend department a few weeks ago. Actually, maybe it was four months ago. I quit pretending you _gave _a damn about anyone but yourself and got myself back to reality. Trouble was_,_ I was the only one _living _there. Everybody else wanted to just go on believing you weren't really a bastard and that any day you were gonna step off the elevator and be the same old Gibbs before he got his eggs scrambled."

"I - I'm trying to get back there, Tony."

"Really?" Tony sighed wearily. "And why is that, Gibbs? 'Cause the gang at the office seems to like the post-Mexico version just fine. Then again, you didn't start treating them like _shit _the minute you got back, either. But honestly, they pretty much hated my guts by then, so to them, you were a definite improvement."

"Ziva says you went way over the top and let your ego lead the team."

"She _did, _did she? Well then, that must be the truth then, 'cause Ziva's never wrong, and Timmy sure as hell isn't gonna rock the boat and risk a paper clip through the ole optic nerve, even if he _did _disagree with her, which he didn't. Questioned nearly every one of my orders, all but mutinied over my case-solving abilities. They kept accusing me of trying to be you, but Christ knows they never would've dared try any of that shit when _you _were in charge."

"In charge _now, _DiNozzo," Gibbs grated, not able to stop his mouth in time. He mentally kicked himself for it, as he watched Tony stiffen and turn to look out the window. Dammit, it was too _soon, _he wasn't ready for this; what little communication finesse he had before his accident had gone the way of his good sense.

"I - didn't mean it like that," he hurried to correct himself.

"Yeah, yeah you _did_. And yes, you _are._And that's all that matters, really, isn'tit? You running the show, making everything and everyone twist and bend to fit your version of reality, no matter how warped that version might be...problem is, I can't bend and twist anymore, Boss." Tony's voice lowered. "And the only thing left is to break. You need to find a new probie, get McGee back as your SFA."

"I don't _want _him as my SFA. He's not ready, and he's not half the agent you are, not yet."

"I suppose I should take that as a compliment, but…honestly, it's just too little, too late."

"What the hell do you _want _from me, DiNozzo? You want me to beg ya not to quit and join Fornell's team? 'Cause we already went _through _all that a few years ago."

"Huh. You _remember _that, do you? Hmmm, well, paperwork's still in his drawer, all I need to do is sign it and you're rid of me."

"I don't _wanna _be rid of you, DiNozzo!"

"Could've fooled me, Boss. But then again, I can be pretty gullible sometimes. Let myself get sucked into thinking this could have been something permanent, but hell, I lasted almost three times longer here than any of my other jobs, so..."

"I don't want you to go_, _Tony," Gibbs repeated, quietly but firmly.

"I don't have any reason to _stay, _Gibbs! You've got your team back, they're all happy, and word on the street is that Stan Burley is sick of his Agent Afloat status and wouldn't mind being back on your team if it meant getting him off that boat! Maybe Rota didn't work out for whoever actually ended up taking it and I can still put in for it."

Gibbs face turned a spectacular shade of shock and anger at Tony's words, and he stumbled back a bit from the hospital bed."You - you got offered the Rota lead?"

Tony watched in morbid fascination at the look transforming Gibbs's face, but couldn't bring himself to feel even a tiny bit guilty for it. In fact, he felt pretty damned smug getting one up on the old man after Gibbs's relentless and inexplicably bad behavior towards him. He turned back towards the window, casual indifference written in his own features.

"Yeah, what about it. I don't rate my own team _anyways, _according to Mr. MIT McGenius."

"He's wrong," Gibbs stated hotly.

"Well, now _there's _something I never thought I'd hear out of your mouth again. McGolden Boy, _wrong!_Figured he was on the fast track to the Director's chair by the ambitious gleam in his eye. Doesn't matter that he can't follow orders himself or respect the chain of command, or figure his way out of a wet paper bag without a motherboard shoved up his ass. But, it doesn't take skill to sit in that chair, just a whole lot of talent for brown-nosing, and bullshitting to cover the agency's ass when it all hits the fan."

"Now don't hold back_, _DiNozzo. Why don't ya tell me how you _really _feel!" Gibbs jibed, hoping to lend some levity, but only ended up making Tony angrier.

"Oh, I'm only just getting _started, _Boss! 'Cause believe it or not, this _isn't _just about you, and whether I stay or go only depends on if I decide I have something to stay _for_!"

"Why didn't you take Rota?"

"Not relevant to this conversation, water under the bridge. Pick another topic, like why you couldn't have bothered even _telling _me you were back to stay, much less inviting me over for a beer and steak to tell me to my face that you wanted the team back. I could have handled it. In fact, I would have _welcomed_ it. I was ready to spontaneously combust from all the stress of trying to hold things together with our dysfunctional little family.

"Yet you didn't have the guts to do that, just rolled in when nobody was around and rearranged the furniture. Then you finished the job by not only treating me like dog crap on your boot, but also encouraging McGee and Ziva to follow in your footsteps."

Tony leaned over and grabbed a pen and paper from the bedside table, and offered it to Gibbs.

"I want you to write down for me all the things I did wrong while you were gone, and how I screwed up after you got back. Go ahead, I'll wait. They won't let me out of here till tomorrow."

Gibbs stared at the pen and paper, speechless.

"Don't think I'm serious? Because _really,_ I want to know so I don't keep doing them, on this team or any other. Obviously I'm seriously lacking in SFA-leadership skills. Do I need to go back to being a probie again? Or maybe just take charm lessons from my father, 'cause God knows, when he can't just bully somebody, he can turn that on like Niagara Falls. The Director thought I was good enough to lead in Rota. But then again, her mind hasn't exactly been on an even-keel lately, and who knows, maybe that was _her _way of getting me off the team so you could take the lead back and Timmy could stay your SFA. Have to say, I'm stumped on this entire Mexican siesta-turned-coup d'état thing. I'm in the minority here, with only Ducky and Tobias backing me up, and well, frankly, they don't have much say in what goes on in this agency. So you tell me, since you seem to have all the answers to life's burning questions."

Gibbs took the pen and tablet from Tony's hand and slumped in the chair next to the bed. His SFA deserved answers, and he had to find them, quickly. He blew out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and put pen to paper while DiNozzo waited, arms folded defiantly as he watched traffic swirl around outside like ants on a sidewalk.

Every instinct told Gibbs to run as fast as he could from that room as he felt the walls closing in on him, but his gut sent him a different message. He couldn't lose the friendship of a man who had become as close to a son as he would ever have. And he needed to know for himself, needed the answers as to why he had behaved the way he did towards Tony.

No more running and hiding, at least not from DiNozzo. He owed the younger man that much, and more.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you Bunny, for the beta, you're the bestest. Thanks to all who review/favorite/alert this story, it's so much appreciated! And thanks to my reviewers who pointed out my 'oopsies'! Hope I sort of 'fixed' one of them. A special shout-out to suchaun for his/her wonderful idea on this one!**

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After waiting months to tell the man next to him just what he thought of his actions, Tony was beginning to wish he'd waited just a little bit longer to spill his guts. Because right now, his guts were threatening to do just that, all over himself and his pristine white hospital bed and possibly the man sitting next to him. Which in Tony's opinion, probably wouldn't be a good idea right now after all the other things he'd just spewed out.

And his pain meds were starting to wear thin, adding to his problems.

Tony closed his eyes and sank back into the bed, swallowing hard and hoping that Gibbs was still too shell-shocked at his outburst to notice. And if he _did _make street pizza and cause every stitch, broken bone, and overstretched muscle to curse him dead, he figured he deserved it. Instant karma was a bitch. What the hell had he been thinking, letting loose like that on his boss? On anyone? It just wasn't done. He was a DiNozzo, and DiNozzos didn't lose their cool like that and show their weaknesses.

And he was Tony, and Tony didn't lash out in anger at anyone but recalcitrant witnesses and suspects. Tease and torment, embarrass and haze, but—being on the end of it all too many times himself—he didn't cross that line into outright verbal sniping or abuse.

Until now. He gathered what little strength he had left and opened his eyes to find an emesis basin in under his nose. So much for Gibbs not noticing. Swallowing down the ever-threatening bile, he squinched his eyes shut again and groaned. How humiliating was _this? _Well, he had only himself to blame at the moment, thinking he could let out months of soul-eating emotions at one go while still under the influence of anesthesia. Damned those stinking drugs that made him think he was ten feet tall and bullet-proof.

_Gain control, _he ordered himself. _Take a breath, let it out, take another_...

He could feel chill start to overtake him, then that awful heat that came just before…and nothing he could do would stop it. He was vomiting and gasping, and for all he knew, whining and crying like a little kid, the pain was so bad, and the circumstances so embarrassing. Tony would have ordered Gibbs to go away save for the fact the man was holding the kidney-shaped barf bowl.

A hand was rubbing Tony's back, a familiar hand, and he wanted to scream at the man that he didn't get to comfort him, or even touch him, that he wasn't allowed in that personal space anymore, not after Tony had spent so much effort rebuilding the walls he'd painstakingly dismantled over the years of knowing the complex Marine. But he just didn't have the strength, and really, he mostly just wanted the nausea and pain to go away. Gibbs he could ignore.

As if reading his mind, but actually after reading his monitors from the nurse's station, a no-nonsense RN entered the room and swooped down on them, grabbing up Tony's chart and scanning it quickly before adjusting his IVs.

"Bit of a reaction to the anesthesia, hunh, Mr. DiNozzo? Well, it's pretty common. I'll see about getting some Compazine for you. In the meantime, I started your pain meds. They should be kicking in fairly soon. I'll get you some ice chips for your throat, too. Do you feel like you still have to vomit some more?"

"No, no, I'm - done, I think. Just - ice chips would be great."

"Coming right up." She carefully took the basin from Gibb's grasp, efficiently emptied it in the small bathroom's sink, and replaced it with a new one. "You just relax, I hear you've had a bit of a rough night and morning. But you seem to have lots of family and friends to look out for you, so I imagine you'll be back on your feet in no time."

_Yeah, right, _Tony would have replied sarcastically if he hadn't been busy keeping the lining of his stomach from introducing itself to his mouth. _Lots of family and friends. If you considered two people lots, then, yeah._

"Where is Ducky?" he managed to moan out before she left the room.

"Doctor Mallard is speaking with your surgeon. He should be in any time. I'll tell him you're-"

The M.E. strode into the small, now-crowded unit just as the nurse was exiting.

"-looking for him!" she finished with a laugh, and left them to get some ice and nausea meds.

Ducky eyed the two agents to get a feel for what had been happening between them. He sensed the tension, but chose to concentrate on getting his young friend comfortable at the moment.

"Well, young man, feeling the after-effects of surgery, are we? Hopefully your nurse is getting you some Compazine and ice chips. She should have you feeling a bit more human in short order." He made a pretense of checking Tony's pulse in order to get close to him and give his wrist an encouraging squeeze. "Would you like me tell him to leave, Anthony?" he asked quietly into the younger man's ear.

Tony shook his head mildly, not wanting to cause his stomach any further upset by jarring his now-aching head. "Not done. Need to...finish this."

Ducky eyed him with concern, not sure if he should let his patient continue 'discussing' anything with anyone in his present condition.

"Very well," he answered quietly. "But you've already pushed past your comfort zone, so do try to wrap this up soon, even if you have to continue it when you're feeling better. I'll be back; I need to go speak with Tobias."

He turned away from Tony and gave Gibbs his best warning glare.

"I'm aware that there are some things that you and Anthony need to discuss. However, if I find him any more upset than he already is when I return, I shall have you dissected on one of my tables by morning."

Normally, Gibbs would have shrugged the older man off, laughed even, at his attempt to threaten. But he could easily read the M.E.'s eyes, and saw not one iota of humor in them along with his warning, and simply nodded his head in surrender to the man. One thing he was figuring out about Tony was to not underestimate the fierceness of Doctor Mallard and Fornell's loyalty to his second. And they were opponents he would rather not cross, no matter his wounded pride.

"Yeah, Duck. I gotcha," he told Ducky quietly, almost—but not quite—averting his eyes from the man.

Satisfied that he had gotten his stern message through to the lead agent, Ducky departed, leaving Gibbs and Tony to attempt to sort out some of the tangled mess of what was once a solid and meaningful friendship between them.

No doubt, by the haunted look on Gibb's face, harsh words had been said, but this needed to be done. If nothing could be done to salvage the familial bond they had been steadily building over the years, then they needed to go their separate ways and get on with their lives, Tony especially. There would be nothing for him but more undercover ops if he stayed on Gibbs's team without resolution to their current strife.

There was silence for a minute or so until Tony sighed in exhaustion, feeling the effects of the pain medications starting to kick in. And it felt good. The pain in his lower back had started to become all he could think about, and truthfully, he just wanted to be left alone to sleep. But Gibbs stayed put, so Tony took the high road once again.

"Don't care what you say about apologies, Boss. What I just said…how I said it...was uncalled for. I shouldn't have started it while I was still under the influence."

"Had it comin', Tony," Gibbs told him quietly. "Just didn't expect it out of ya. You've always taken my shit and let it roll off of you. Only this time it was different, and you knew it. _I _knew it. I'd forgotten almost everything about you except your weaknesses, and I went for them like a wolf on a sick lamb. Didn't have enough…my mind wasn't-"

"You were in a bad place, Boss, we all knew that."

"No excuse, Tony. I knew better than to treat you like that, or at least knew better to figure out why I felt like I did towards ya."

"You thought I stole your team away from you and then screwed everything up. You needed to take it back and fix things. Didn't take a rocket scientist to understand it," Tony chided, with a bit more venom than he intended.

"No, just someone smarter than me. You've _always _been smarter than me, DiNozzo. One of the reasons I dragged you back from Baltimore."

"Boss, don't," Tony protested, not wanting praises from his boss under these circumstances. Partly because he knew he wouldn't remember them. But mostly because it felt now like Gibbs was using them to get back into his good graces. After all, the man had just admitted to him that he'd remembered most of Tony's weaknesses, and they both knew that his greatest one was the craving to have worth, to be valid in Jethro Gibbs's eyes.

Gibbs could tell by DiNozzo's tone that he meant for the older man to stop. But he needed to have his turn, try to make things right with a man he'd come to think of as his own.

"Not tryin' to soft-soap ya, Tony. Fact of the matter is, I've always run on my gut and people's body language and not much else. You do both, plus you have street smarts from workin' three big police departments. You don't get the credit you deserve for a lot of what you contribute, I knew that before my brain got hammered, figured it out again when I had to work without you these past few weeks. Must've known it in my gut when I came back and it scared me, figured you'd be gunnin' for my job and I'd be forced into retiring instead of just threatening to all the time."

"Already told you I didn't want the job, you could've just asked me about it."

"I could've done a _lot _of things I didn't do, DiNozzo. Christ, if I'd been doing my job instead of spendin' all my time sniping _you, _you wouldn't be layin' there busted up and pukin' your guts out!"

"Let's not - talk about pu- doing that right now," Tony winced, wondering where the nurse was with his Compazine. "Doesn't matter, the Directory would've sent me on some crazy-ass op anyways. I think _she's_got it out for me for me, too, sending me all kinds of crazy places for God knows what..."

"How many and how crazy?" Gibbs queried, his hackles rising at this new information.

"Doesn't matter now, Boss, over and done. Hopefully whatever bug she's got up her ass will be gone when the fallout from this all hits the fan."

"Better be, or-"

"Didn't forget about you, Tony!" his nurse breezed in with a tray of ice chips and some pills. "Doctor Mallard said you don't like injections so I just brought tablets. You should be able to get them down alright." She set them on the bedside rolling table and waited for him to swallow them. "He's quite the story teller, your Ducky. Says you've had the plague and I didn't quite believe him, so I had to check it out myself. No wonder Dr. Pitt was down here with you."

Tony swallowed the meds, making a face at the after-taste, and she handed him the cup of ice chips.

"Just a few to start out with, till your stomach settles a little. I'll be back in a bit to see how you're doing." She checked her watch and looked at Gibbs. "You have about five more minutes before we kick you out of here," she told him fearlessly. "You can come back in the morning if he wants to see you."

And with that she was gone, before Gibbs had even the chance to try his Angry Gunny Glare on her. He huffed anyway and spooned out some ice chips for his second without even thinking about what he was doing. Now it was Tony's turn to glare.

"What? How the hell're you gonna get them out of there left-handed, you tip it up and they'll go all over your face! Take the damned spoon."

Tony grudgingly took it from him, his hand shaky, but he was determined to not spill them on their way to his mouth. They tasted like the best Swiss chocolate on his tongue, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

"Did you even _try _to get out of this last fubar of an op?" Gibbs grilled him, back to the subject like a dog on a bone.

"Told her and Tobias's director all the reasons it wouldn't work. Seemed to make them both all the more determined to do it."

"I tried finding out where you were, used all my contacts in the Marines, and black ops, either no one knew or no one would tell me. Seems my double B bastard reputation preceded me as they basically told me to go kiss my ass. Among other anatomically impossible things."

He got a slight smile out of Tony on that one. But he knew he still had a long way to go before the younger man let him back in his circle of trusted friends. That was another thing he had come to remember in the past few weeks. If you had Anthony DiNozzo Jr. counted as one of your friends, you were a very lucky and very honored person. The emotionally closed-off agent did not take his relationships lightly, barring fun bar dates, and if he trusted you enough to count you as a true friend, you were one of a very few. Gibbs didn't really have _any _friends that he knew wouldn't toss him under the bus for a Hershey Bar, save for DiNozzo, Fornell, and Abby, and he was fast losing the first two for good.

"I'm pretty sure Tobias knew and wouldn't tell me even if he could have. Even tried to spend my marker with SecNav and got shut out."

The younger man's eyebrows raised. That _did _make an impression on Tony. He knew full well that his boss and the SecNav had gone toe to toe on many a tense occasion and would never be accused of being friends. Gibbs knew he finally had DiNozzo's attention before he had to leave for the night.

"We fell apart without ya on the team, DiNozzo. None of us wanted to admit it, especially me. Among other things, I forgot how you played jock strap to my illegal punches when it came to McGee and Ziva. And between them, too. Practically had to pull them apart some days."

"Ziva has always thought that she should have been made Senior Field Agent."

Gibbs was indignant. "She's not even a probationary agent, she's a liaison!"

"Yeah, well, so says her paperwork, but her brain hasn't comprehended that minor detail quite yet. She mentioned it to me a time or two hundred. Along with how the hell I got to be lead agent when she couldn't even figure out how I'd managed SFA. Hell, I think what she _really _wanted was to be her own one-person MCRT. Call all the shots, do things the 'mossad' way, no one telling her she couldn't shoot a suspects legs off at the knees, goofy details like that."

Tony sank back a little further into his pillows, the Compazine having mostly quelled his nausea and the pain meds making him feel a bit on the goofy side himself. He heaved a sigh, and his eyes slid closed against his better judgment.

"Ya know, boss, I hate to break up this little tea party, but my body's still lying back in that ditch and I really need to stop talking for a while. I appreciate ya stoppin' by and...I'm sorry I threw a tantrum back there. Been holding it in for months, and my defenses were wa-a-a-y down from the drugs...but…I don't take back what I said, just...how I said it..."

"Got your point across loud and clear, though, didn't ya?" Gibbs asked with a half-smile, and squeezed his second's shoulder. "I'll come back in the morning if you want."

"Yeahhh...that'd be cool...bring...danish and...hot chocolate."

"Will do, Tony. Oh, I almost forgot…You asked me to write all the things you did wrong as team lead, and why I treated you like I did. I came up with a blank for the first one. But I _did _have an answer for the second."

He pressed the folded up paper into Tony's hand, pulled the extra blanket up around him, and disappeared out the door.

Minutes later, when Tony awoke with a snort, he found the paper still clutched in his hand, and had to do a back search of his brain as to what had happened and why it was there. Gibbs had been there and he had yelled at the man, for quite a while even. Oopsie...Then he had thrown up from all the 'excitement' and Gibbs had had to hold the puke bucket. Double oopsie. But Gibbs had stayed, they had talked some more, and Gibbs said he'd be back in the morning after pressing the note into his hand.

The note…Oh yeah, the reason Gibbs had behaved like such a jackhole to him.

Tony unfolded the piece of lined tablet paper and read the words. Something inside of him let go like it had been crammed into way too small of a space and then suddenly let loose, like an over-packed suitcase being unzipped after a long trip. He was never gladder in all his life to be alone than when he saw those words scribbled in his boss's unique hand writing.

'_Because I remembered I'd lost my daughter, but forgot I still had a son.'_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:Thanks to all who have reviewed/alerted/favorited and continue to follow this story at its slow...slow...pace...Thanks also to gotgoats for the beta, you're a sweetie and I love ya!  
This chapter sort of got away from me, don't know if it even makes any sense anymore after all the yabba yabba, but here it is anyways! Probably OCC, too. Sometimes I think all I'm doing is keeping up my keyboarding skills...**

For the first time since Tony could remember, he was thankful for the new round of analgesics washing over his frazzled nerve-endings and taking over his brain. Normally, that was never a good thing - Tony DiNozzo on painkillers was a force to be reckoned with. Given just the right amount of just the right one, and Tony's mouth disengaged from his brain and went on joyride, careening wildly down closed-off streets and mowing agents and innocent bystanders down with his unintelligible observations and lunacy until someone, usually Gibbs, threw down the spike strips and deflated his tires by physically hauling him off to his guest room to sleep them off.

This time, though, Tony gratefully, and gracefully, allowed them to dope him to the gills; anything to not have to deal with the note he'd just read from Gibbs. In all their years together, through all of their crises, physical and emotional, the older agent had never alluded to the fact that he thought of Tony as anything other than a subordinate - a _valuable_ subordinate, but an underling, nonetheless. And now, after Gibbs had dumped a shell-shocked and surly team in his lap with no warning, and high-tailed it out of the country, then come back and yanked it all out from under him and treated Tony like he was crap on his boot...he lays _that _on him?

Too much. Just too much to try to figure out. And here Tony always thought _he _was the guy on the team with the head problems. The last time he had seen Gibbs in the bullpen, the man had thrown down the gauntlet and dared Tony to either lick his boots or take a hike. Now Gibbs was calling him his son? Back up the truck here. Like, five months back. Tony hoped that when he woke up, he would be in his own bed and had dreamed the last many hellish weeks of his life. It was worth a try. He laid back into the pillows as the stinging analgesic washed through his veins, and let himself drift off to the netherworlds, where this sort of bi-polar behavior was just part of the landscape and made total sense to the dreamer.

He awoke again in the middle of the night to familiar smells, and wondered how long he'd been out of it. He knew by the smells that he was back in a hospital bed, and that his boss was sitting beside him. The rest came back to him gradually, and he groaned when it all came back together in his mind.

"Need me to get a nurse?" Gibb's concerned voice rumbled next to him.

"Not - no don't need one." Tony countered quickly. "Just - some ice."

It was all he could think of to deter Gibbs long enough for him to get his brain in order.

"Got it."

Tony breathed a deep sigh of relief once Gibbs was out of the room. This was _so _screwed up. His emotions had done a complete one eighty in the span of time it took to read that 14-word note from the man he'd always considered to be more his dad than his own biological father. Gibbs had never given Tony the merest indication he felt any paternal feelings towards him, had always treated him as an errant subordinate who needed a lot more discipline and direction than the rest of his team. And now his boss was laying that on him, like Gibbs hadn't become someone he didn't know and turned on him like some zombie monster out of his childhood nightmares.

He couldn't help but wonder if the man was playing head games with him, hoping to get him to forgive and forget all that had happened between them the past few months, and go back to the good ole' days, when Tony would have done anything for the man, because he believed Gibbs was perfect in spite of his obvious flaws. Gibbs freely admitted that McGee wasn't 'working out' as his newest SFA, and really, who _else _did he have besides Tony and Probie who would put up with the man's attitude? Maybe it was like Fornell had accused Gibbs of doing when he'd driven Tony to defect temporarily to the Hoover Building and then came screaming into Fornell's office to drag him back to the NCIS bullpen - maybe it wasn't so much that Gibbs liked Tony, but that he just didn't want anyone _else _to be bossing him around.

The bottom line was that between the pain and the drugs and Gibbs being suddenly so attentive and emotionally 'available', nothing was making much sense anymore. Like maybe he woke up in another dimension, or was in a coma and dreaming or something. Maybe if he closed his eyes and went back to sleep, when he woke up, he'd be back in Kansas.

Tony just couldn't think fast enough, it was like his brain was a pile of hot, cooked spaghetti instead of his usual sharp, take-no-prisoners mindset.

In the end, he just gave up, and did what he had conditioned himself to do for nearly all his life - tell himself this was entirely his fault for opening himself up and handing his heart over to people he genuinely thought he could trust with it. What the hell had he been _thinking? _That they were any different than the rest of the people he'd had an emotional bond to only to be strangled with it in the end?

Gibbs breezed in with the ice chips, and heard Tony sigh from across the room.

"Need a nurse, Tony?" Gibbs asked with concern, unsure if something had happened to the younger man while he was gone out of the room.

"No, I - "Tony struggled for words, "Just - tired of all this… wish I was home...want my own bed."

It certainly wasn't a lie, and it was the best he could come up with, but Gibbs could tell by the turn of Tony's head away from him that he was hiding something.

"Don't lay there in pain, DiNozzo, you're in a freaking hospital, if ya need some painkiller, tell me and I'll -"

"Why, Boss?"

Gibbs was temporarily stymied at the out -of-sequence question, but he softened his tone from his previously annoyed one.

"Why what, Tony?"

"Why tell me that after all these years? Especially now, after all that's happened."

"Tell you wha- oh." It finally dawned on Gibbs what Tony was asking him.

He was hoping the note alone would be enough, that Tony would 'get it' and not dig any deeper into his motivations. He should have known better, _did_know better, he'd just hoped that his second would be too exhausted to go there. He set the now forgotten ice chips down in front of Tony and deposited himself into the rock-hard beside chair.

"Broke my own rule. Assumed it didn't need to be said, that you'd figured it out for yourself. You were always so good at reading me, knowing what I was thinking...just thought you knew..."

"Sometimes I - thought I did, but I couldn't let myself believe it. Too dangerous...might get- disappointed."

Hmmm. Disappointed. A nice, safe word, Tony thought to himself. Not 'crushed, wretched, miserable, bitter.'

Gibbs sighed, and rested his head on the wall behind him, closing his eyes in defeat.

"Not your fault, Boss. I was asking more from you than I had a right to. Nowhere in your job description does it say 'treat your SFA like your own, make sure he knows how you feel, and never hurt him."

"Thought I _was _treating you like my own, Tony. Least till I got the crap kicked outta me on that ship. I - I'm just not very good at it. Lost my touch when I lost Kelly, couldn't - open myself up like that again. Had to keep a lid on it."

"Never had a problem showing Abby how ya felt." Tony chided, sounding whiny even to himself.

"She - didn't keep herself closed off like you did, Tony. You shied away from any show of affection, and said you didn't like it when I was 'nice', made ya nervous. Head slaps were the closest I could get to showing you I cared enough about you to make ya behave. Didn't think you'd appreciate a swat on the ass in front of everyone when you were actin' like a brat."

Tony said nothing, but his silence told Gibbs he was processing everything Gibbs was telling him.

"I understand what I did to you by takin' off like I did. And by coming back the way I did. I can't take it back, I just have to try to do better from now on. But if ya want me ta hug and kiss ya like I do Abby, yer shit outta luck. Guess what I'm sayin' is, you've never made it easy for me to figure out _what_you wantfrom me. One minute you're beggin' for attention from me, then when I give it to you, ya bite my hand. Never sure of how yer gonna take it. So I stopped tryin' to give it to you like that. Thought maybe you'd accept my 'tough love' better."

"I did, Boss. And I - know you're right about not making it easy for you to know how to treat me. I didn't get much positive reinforcement growing up, and when I did, there was always an ulterior motive behind it, my father buttering me up for something he wanted from me, or something he wanted my approval for. Never have been able to trust someone being nice to me - I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Understandable. Helluva way to grow up, though."

"Yeah. Tell me about it. "

They were both silent for a bit, trying to gather their thoughts enough to not say the wrong thing in this most important conversation. Gibbs was the one to finally speak again, and he hoped like heck he could make Tony understand what he was trying to say.

"Meant what I said in the note, Tony. Maybe it's more than you can handle from me, maybe you never really wanted it -"

"Always _wanted _it, Boss. Never trusted it."

"Guess you were right _not _to, after what's happened the past few months."

"I kept telling myself that you weren't yourself, but that only went so far. It didn't help me deal with Ziva and McGee and Abby while you were gone, or with the way you dissed me when I got back. There was enough of the _old you _left that I figured you knew exactly what you were doing to me and just didn't care, and I just didn't deserve that kind of treatment from you, no matter _how _screwed up your head was from the coma. It hurt like a sonofabitch. Out of all the people for you to turn on, I figured I had been your most loyal. Finally figured it out, though, why you were so gawdawful nasty to me. When I did, there was only one thing to do, so I did it. Got out of there before there was real bloodshed."

"Didn't do ya any good, did it, _still _ended up almost bleeding out at the end. I don't feel that way aboutcha anymore, Anthony, do you understand that? That I was treating you like that 'cuz I felt threatened by you? I'd lost so much, felt like I was gonna lose _everything _when I came back and saw how well you lead the team. I _knew _that McGee and Ziva gave you a hard time while I was gone, but that didn't mean you weren't a good team lead, it meant _they_were bad probies. Didn't matter to me, figured I could just replace 'em if they went too far with me."

"But they didn't. And you knew they wouldn't. You knew they'd never stand up to you like I did."

"Yeah. That much I remembered."

"So what made you all of a sudden decide I was the _good_guy, that you didn't need to eviscerate me every time you saw me?"

Gibbs winced at the last part of Tony's question, knowing again just how the younger man must have felt to have his formerly steadfast boss at his throat all day every day.

"Not sure. Pieces just started falling together, like a case ya can't figure out for months, and then all of a sudden you get a break on it and it all starts to make some sense. I started trusting my gut again, letting it work for me instead of my brain. And nothing seemed to work right on the team when you weren't there to put yer two cents in."

"Excuse me, boss, but I think what I contribute is worth a little more than two cents." Tony's voice was laced with humor, but there was a bar of steel behind it.

"Yeah. Figured _that _out, too. Realized you weren't show-boating, that you were really serious about your work. I tried getting that kind of intuitive shit out of McGee and Ziva, but I couldn't get them to stop _sniping _at each other long enough."

"Like I said before, boss. Ziva wanted SFA from the get-go; even _before _things went to hell in that explosion, she could never understand how I got to be your second. I think she figured my years as a cop were spent directing traffic and helping little old ladies across the street. Wasn't much different with Kate, except she at least had the class to keep it to herself most of the time. Zee-vah brought it to an Olympic standard, considered buying her a gold medal to wear around her neck."

"It won't change with her when you come back to work, she'll still have atcha every chance she gets. There's not much I can _do _about it, she's not going anywhere anytime soon. She's got a lot to offer to the team, she just needs some reigning in."

"Been almost two years, Boss. Little late to start a 'Curb Your Mossad Agent' project."

Again, there was humor laced in Tony's words, but Gibbs could hear the bitterness behind it. Both he and the Director had let Ziva run a wild course as a liaison agent, both for different reasons. Gibbs would never reveal his own reason, but knew he had not done either Tony or the young Israeli any favors by allowing her hot-headed behavior.

"Yeah." he answered quietly. "Suppose so. Still, I can tamp her down a bit, remind her that she's in the U.S. now, not Israel."

"Hmmm. Sure." Tony responded without any enthusiasm. They both knew that even if Gibb did do such a thing, it would probably be a waste of breath. "Just like telling McGoo it takes more than a computer to solve a case. He's on the fast track to the Director's chair in his head, and hell, maybe he's right, maybe guys like me are considered dinosaurs, but if that's the case, then I need to find another line of work, cause I don't intend to sit on my ass waiting for leads to come out of the computer and slap me in the face. You've gotta get the _idea _before you can look for something on the computer, it won't do a _damned _thing you don't _tell _it to do."

Gibbs chuckled to himself, but he knew Tony had heard him.

"He sorta found that out the _hard _way while you were gone. Kept waiting for the things to pop out of thin air. Lots of times I saw him open his mouth and look over at your desk gettin' ready to ask you something. Knew what he was looking for, wasn't about to clue 'im in till I _had _to."

"So tell me, Gibbs. You want me back 'cuz you actually miss _me_, or do ya want me back cause I'm the missing link? Cause I gotta _tell _ya, I'm not in the mood anymore for being anyone's whipping boy, Tobias is waiting with open arms if I decide to cross over. And I'm not saying that to bait ya, Boss, at this point, I'd gladly work for the other guys."

"I know ya would, Tony. And I know it's not an empty threat."

"Never _has _been. Fornell and I may rag on each other, but we've got a lot of respect for each other. He helped me a lot when you were gone, and after you came back."

"I know. Wouldn't let me near ya unless I promised to behave and not get you upset. Threw me for a loop when I found out you'd changed him to your next-of-kin, but ya did what you had to do. He didn't _have _to let me in to see you, but he knew I needed to try to make it right with you. If you decide to go work for him, I won't blame ya, not after the goatrope I made of our friendship. But I really wish ya wouldn't. Thing is, while you were still under the radar on your op, I was remembering a lot of years of good teamwork. A lot of you showing me how to think outside of the box. A lot of you showing me it was okay to let someone _inside _of my boundaries.

"You were the first one since Kelly who made me want to put the effort into being more than a boss, and more than just a friend. Had to work at it, ya didn't take any crap from me, made me more determined to make you one of mine. You get that, Tony? I messed up big time, but doesn't mean yer not still mine. I just didn't remember. Now I do. So you think you can come back as my SFA, see if we can't try to get back on track again?"

"I'll think about it, Boss. Gotta talk to Ziva and McGee first, they didn't have the excuse of having their brains rattled for treating me like crap."

"Don't be too hard on 'em, DiNozzo, I egged them on with my bad example."

"I'm not just talking about when you got back, Boss. I'm talking about when you were gone, when they all but mutinied on me on a daily basis. They couldn't follow me as team lead, and barely tried to tolerate me when I went back to SFA. If they honestly don't want me back, I'm not gonna torture myself wondering every day if they're gonna _have _my back. It's one of the main reasons I started taking Jenny's ops, I figured I wasn't in any more danger than going out on cases with you guys."

Gibb's guts clenched at the harsh admission, but he had to swallow the truth no matter how unpalatable it was - he had created an environment so threatening to Tony that the younger agent felt vulnerable and unsafe among his own team mates, and with a boss who had constantly sworn to have his SFA's six. So unstable, that DiNozzo had chosen the treacherous waters of undercover ops in lieu of showing up for Team Gibbs every day. Gibbs felt sick to his stomach at the thought, and decided he wouldn't blame Tony one bit if he decided to jump ship to the FBI.

"I understand, DiNozzo." he told the younger man quietly. "And I'll stand by whatever decision you make. But - maybe you could wait till you're not so strung out from pain and drugs to make it. Talk to McGee and Ziva, I won't try to influence them one way or the other, but - don't do anything till you're a little stronger. I know what it's like to make big decisions when you're back's against the wall - you could end up really regretting them when it's too late to go back and change them."

"Okay, boss, I'll - take that under consideration. In the meantime, I'm ready for my next round of happy juice, could you buzz the nurse and see if I've got any coming soon?"

"Sure, Tony, will do. I shouldn't have kept you talking like this, but I had to let you know I'm not who I was the last few months; I still have some gaps, but I understand at least some of the fallout I've caused from it."

"Yeah..okay." Tony huffed, trying to get comfortable again with the pain creeping back in on him. "Come by again later, when I'm not so tired. And bring some doughnuts; just don't tell the nurses or Ducky."

"Got it, DiNozzo." Gibbs laughed in spite of the unsettling conversation he'd just had, and strode out of the room in search of a charge nurse to get some meds for his agent. He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse for the sharing mood Tony had been in, but either way, he needed to hear just what his SFA had to tell him, or he'd be regretting ever coming back from Mexico. And maybe now that Tony had vented so much to him, he would feel on a more even footing with his boss and be more inclined to stay with Team Gibbs. Because losing Tony now would be the last straw for Gibbs, especially knowing it had been his fault. He watched the nurse head to his SFA's room with the pain medicine, and left the hospital with a bit more hope than what he had come in with.


	11. Chapter 11

Gibbs couldn't help but wonder about the fact that not only was Tony willing taking his pain meds, he had actually _asked _for them. Was his SFA in that much pain that he would ask Gibbs himself to send the nurse with his scheduled amount? He hadn't seemed like it. Yes, Gibbs had seen the pinched look around his eyes that always gave DiNozzo away when he was trying to hide an injury, or tough out one that Gibbs knew about, but there was no indication that the pain was beyond coping with. Maybe he was just tired of him and all their 'talking', and wanted him gone for the night.

In actuality, Gibbs was pretty darned close to being right on that guess. Tony _was _tired, but not just of Gibbs. He was tired of everything; his mini-undercover ops for Jenny, his battles trying to get his team to respect and listen to him, of being considered sloppy seconds after Gibbs bolted for Mexico, and getting kicked in the teeth by the man when he returned and yanked his job back from Tony without any sort of warning.

The months of trying to decide if it was all worth it or should he just chuck it like Gibbs did and split for the Caymans had worn him down to a thin, sharp blade, and he lay there contemplating using the trust fund his mother had started and hidden for him before the meds started their magic and obliterated all conscious thought. It was a lot of money, and he tended to never dip into it except for real emergencies, because he never knew, really, from one day to the next, whether or not he would have a job that offered a retirement package. It was his nest egg, and the only legacy his mother had left him, other than a very bad taste in his mouth for canopy beds and anti-depressants.

He knew he should be thinking about what he wanted to say to McGee and Ziva when and if they decided to visit him tomorrow. But instead, he let his mind drift to sugar-white beaches and sunsets that melted his sunglasses to his head. He could buy a boat, a nice one, and he knew enough about sailing from his boarding school days to at least make it from port to port down the coast without drowning himself and losing the yacht, and he lay there, half out of it, waving to the team, maybe even giving them the finger, as he sailed off out of the harbor...

"Mr. DiNozzo? Agent DiNozzo, you have visitors here to see you. Do you want me to make them wait until you've had some breakfast?"

Huh? Breakfast? He had just gone to sleep a little while ago...

He opened one eye and looked over at his watch on the bedside stand. Almost 8:30. He had actually slept that long? His mouth tasted like a monkey had slept in it then died. What sort of meds did they give to him last night?

"Uhhh...I...uh, yes, make them wait till I've at least gone pee and combed my hair."

"Gotcha." The middle aged nurse smiled and winked at him. "I'll hold them off. Agent Gibbs brought you a coffee, told me you'd need it before they came in."

"Hell, Joanne, I need more than _coffee _for dealing with those two. Got any good Scotch at the nurses' station?"

"If I did, I wouldn't share it with you _this _early, Agent DiNozzo. Come on, let's get you to the head. I'll wait outside, you knock on the door and let me know when you're done."

She gave him minimal assistance, and he let her without fussing about it, soon knocking on the door and getting himself back into his bed.

"I'm thinking you may get to home tomorrow morning if everything checks out for you, Agent DiNozzo. I'll talk to your doctor and find out for sure."

"Really? Tomorrow already…Okay, well. That's great. Yeah, thanks."

She gave him a strange look, having been warned by Doctor Mallard that the young man would try to bolt from the place the first chance he got, but getting the strong feeling he was actually reluctant to leave.

"Alright, then, I'll send them in, but your breakfast is on its way, so don't let them stop you from eating it."

He nodded, barely caring about the bland hospital breakfast, and laid back in the bed to regain his bearings after the trip to the bathroom. He honestly wasn't sure he was strong enough for them yet, but it had to be done, and maybe he would _never _be strong enough for the two of them against him again anyways. Moments later, he heard someone shuffle into the room on unsure feet, and opened his eyes. McGee stood by himself at the end of the bed.

"Hey, Pr - McGee. How's it goin' on the outside?"

"It's uh…well...it's been kind of wild, actually."

"Huh, no kidding. Thought that was just here on the inside."

"Uh, no, we, um...Gibbs was frantic trying to find you and now that we did –er- _they _did, he's been grouchier than he's ever been."

"Hmm. Well, you just never know with that man, do you?"

McGee chafed at the light, easy tone DiNozzo's voice had taken, knowing he was holding back, maybe even baiting McGee into some sort of altercation.

"Nobody made you take the undercover ops, Tony. Everything was going fine. We were back to normal for once, and then-"

"I go and ruin it all by getting myself shot and tossed out of a car. Yeah, I get it, Timmy. You can go, I've pretty much learned all I need to already."

"Tony, that's not how I _meant _it! You take everything I say and-"

"Twist it around to suit me and make _you _look bad."

"Stop _doing _that!"

"Why exactly did you come here, McGee? Did Gibbs make you? Did he tell you I was quitting the team unless everybody behaved the way I wanted them to? 'Cause honestly, if that were the case, I would've had to quit as soon as I joined."

"Why couldn't you have just picked up the damned report like he told you to? All he wanted was for you to do it over again, would that have been so hard? You've always done everything else he told you to do, why not then?"

Tony was glad McGee was at the other end of the bed so he couldn't reach him and strangle him dead. He had expected this from McGee, really, the guy was more black and white than Abby. Instead he just sighed heavily.

"Why are you _really _mad at me, McGee? 'Cause I lived, and now you have to give up your SFA status?"

"What? No-o-o, God no! I just…how could you _say _that, Tony?"

"The same way you could ask me why I got out from under Gibbs's size 12 boot! Didn't like having it stuck up my ass every minute of the working day!"

"He had _major_ _head trauma. _He thought he had just lost his wife and daughter, why couldn't you have cut him some slack like you always have?"

"How long, McGee? How long was I supposed to put _up _with that from him? And you know damned well he wasn't the only one dishing it out, hell, you and Ziva had had four months, Gibbs just upped the ante coming back and taking over. He at least had the excuse of being non compos mentus, what was yours and Ziva's?"

"Tony, I didn't come here to argue with you, I-"

"Then what _did _you come here for, McGee? 'Cause so far everything you've _said _has been argumentative!"

"I - I'm - I guess I'm not used to you being this honest, Tony, it's kind of shocking, makes me - I don't know, off-kilter or something."

"You think I don't think mean stuff about you and Ziva and Gibbs? That in all the time I've worked with you guys, I haven't wanted to back every one of you into the wall and tell you just what I think of you? Every day Gibbs does something to piss me off, even before his whole 'come back from retirement' thing. Every day, you and Ziva diss me for no good reason other than to see if you can get me to back you up against that wall. I think plenty of dark thoughts, Timmy, I just don't _act _on them just to myself feel better at the expense of your feelings. I may tease and torment and grow you a backbone, but I don't cross that line from teasing to cruelty. Maybe I don't have the skills to express myself in a more meaningful way, but I never set out to do real damage. I'm not sure what I ever did to you and Ziva to make you think it's okay to treat me like that, and I'm not just talking while I was your boss for the last four months."

McGee's chin fell to his chest as he contemplated his navel and tried to gather his thoughts for an honest reply to his partner. He couldn't speak for Ziva, but he could for himself, and if he was honest with _himself, _Tony deserved an answer. Why _had _he fought Tony nearly every step of the way while the man had been their boss, and had just been trying to do his job under pretty hinky circumstances? And what about the months _before_that all happened, when he let snarkiness rule his brainwaves in favor of trying to cultivate something deeper and truer with his partner? Just because he was the Probie and needed to prove something? What exactly had he proven, that he could out-snipe DiNozzo with his Ivy League degrees? Did it improve his skills as an agent, make him a sharper thinker, help him work outside the confines of a computer program to find answers and help solve cases?

"I didn't have the kind of life growing up that you think I had, Tony."

"Really, well then that makes _two _of us."

"No, listen, I…I'm trying to say something…_profound_ here, I just - I - it's hard to just say stuff off the top of my head, I mean - _meaningful _stuff. I'm trying to say that maybe I didn't have a dad that knew my faults and overlooked them anyways, either, like _your _dad, or at least the way you _talk _about your dad when you do talk about him. He was military, spit and shine, no wrinkle in anything, not even plans. You followed his orders, or else. Gibbs is - was, anyways - someone who can deal with it when I screw up, lets me work it out for myself, or helps me work it out if I can't figure it out. I…I have a hard time thinking out of the box like you do, Tony, life out of the box has always been scary, dangerous, even, for me. My brain just doesn't work that way, it has to go step by step, reason things out, make sure everything fits where it should. I can't make those intuitive leaps of logic and conclusions like you do. And sometimes I get frustrated, and I don't handle frustration well so I get angry, and when I get angry, I don't know how to verbalize it well and I'm no good at holding it all in like you do 'cause it makes me feel like I'm going to explode after a while."

"And there you have the reason why I sometimes over-do it with the alcohol," Tony stated quietly, little real humor in his voice.

"Yeah, I…I can see why."

"I spent a few years with the spit and polish myself, McGee, I understand rank and chain of command and having to live inside a very tight little box. It's where I started to learn to compartmentalize and stuff everything down. Couldn't spend every damned weekend confined to quarters while the others were out playing sports and having fun 'cause I couldn't keep my thoughts out of my mouth. People will _always _piss you off, McGee. If not me, then the next person you work with. Think Gibbs was the first boss that made me wanna put my Sig to their head? He's the lesser of some of the evil, believe it or not. He may say things that piss me off, or even hurt my feelings, but he _walks the walk, _he doesn't just talk the talk. He doesn't say one thing then turn around and do another. I can always figure him out, and I always know where I stand with him, no two-faced boss, no head games. Until a few months ago, anyways."

"He had a reason, Tony."

"I'm excruciatingly aware of that fact, Timmy, didn't make it any easier to take his shit on top of yours."

"Yeah, well…" McGee drawled, trying to get back to his original train of thought. "My point is that you and Gibbs, you just _clicked _with him, and I didn't, I couldn't make him notice me-"

"Are you _kidding, _McGee?" Tony interrupted, true disbelief painting his features. "_I _got the head slaps, _you _got a slap on the shoulder or your hair ruffled with a 'good job, Tim.' My 'intuitive leaps' counted for squat when you were on your game with your MIT brain! And after the Great Concussion, there was nothing I could _do _that was right with him anymore!"

"I know, and it was-" McGee swallowed, trying his hardest to say what he needed to say, no matter how petty it sounded. Tony had been good to him those two years, regardless of what often seemed like bullying behavior to McGee. Hadn't DiNozzo just _loved _lording it over him, throwing his rank and been-there-done-that attitude in McGee's face every chance he got? "It was nice for a change to be the Big Man on Campus, not having to do the crap jobs and getting all the praise."

"We _all_ had to do crap jobs sometimes, Tim," Tony growled. "I didn't stop dumpster-diving or gassing up the truck or running for coffee just 'cause you and Ziva came along. I didn't stop slogging around in the rain for weapons even when my lungs told me to knock it off or they'd go on strike. I may have delegated some you thought were beneath you so I could work on something else for Gibbs, 'cause God _knows _there were crap jobs he stuck _me _with. You weren't my equal, McGee. I was on the street learning the hard way while you were writing your computer programs. You won't _ever _figure people out or read their body language by studying a spreadsheet, or reason out where they ditched their murder weapon or stashed the body sitting at a computer. I _earned _my SFA wings, Probie, and don't tell me that your college buddies, or your friends in Cyber Crimes don't think you don't deserve to be an NCIS agent."

"Tony, I've worked my _ass _off as a Probie! I've done things they couldn't even _imagine _doing as an NCIS agent!" McGee announced indignantly, his hands clenching into fists at his side. "They have no _right _to say I don't deserve to be an agent!"

"Hmm. Shoe is on the other foot_, _now, _isn't _it, McGee? And don't tell me you don't hear the scuttlebutt from down there, whether you want to or not," Tony answered back calmly. "Now ya know how _I _feel."

Yeah, actually, he did. McGee was not going to be mulish enough to admit he had never gotten the supposed good-natured teasing from his college friends about 'falling into' a hot-shot federal agent job, or never heard the jealous gossip from the depths of the Cyber Crime Unit of NCIS. But he _had _worked hard to stay on Gibbs's team and keep contributing, and he was determined to stay there at any cost, and sometimes that meant making himself look smarter, savvier, and more relevant than his partner.

"My dad might have been an anal retentive ass a lot of the time, but he took the time to teach me to go after whatever I wanted with everything I had," McGee told Tony in a subdued voice. "I used that drive to get myself my degrees and then into my field office job at NCIS. Once I got out of the field office and _into _the field as an agent, I couldn't get enough of it. And then my folks started hounding me about commendations and promotions and you just don't know what it's _like _trying to live up to your old man's impossible standards!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, McGee knew he'd put his foot in it, and flinched a bit as Tony gave him a hard glare that rivaled Gibbs at his worst.

"Oh really, McGee. _Do _tell! 'Cause the last time I knew, I was trying to please _two _old men, neither of whose standards I came even _close _to living up to! It's not _possible, _McGee, for either _one _of us, so stop trying before you give yourself a nervous breakdown! Life is a lot easier when you just resign yourself to the fact that you can't _ever _live up to your father's crazy ass expectations of you. It isn't possible, never has been. Ask any son. Ask Adam."

"Adam who?"

"Adam, as in Adam and Eve. He's the first guy to disappoint his dad. And he passed it on from generation to generation, and here we are, me and you, killing ourselves trying not to do the same. So walking over the backs of your team to get ahead for your parents…if it's worth it to you, then I can't stop ya. But I'm sure as hell not gonna be one of your carpets anymore, Tim. I'm done coming home at night and finding boot prints on my back, Gibbs's included."

"Y-you're leaving the team?"

"What would you do if it were _you, _Tim?"

"I'd…I'd tell my teammates how awful they were being to me and if it didn't stop, I'd…find another team."

"Well, the thing is, Tim, I shouldn't have to tell you, and I shouldn't have to be the one to find another team if the one I've got doesn't like or even respect me. I can work with people who don't like me, it happens all the time. I can't and _won't _workwith, or for, people who don't respect me. It means I'm either doing a really bad job or I'm working with boneheads. I may _act _like I don't have any self-worth sometimes, but believe me, McGee, I didn't get to be the SFA of a premier team of feds by being a damned shrinking violet. And I seem to recall being here awhile before either one you hit the scene."

"So you're saying it's okay for _you _to be aggressive to get what you want, but not okay for _me _to be?"

"What I'm saying, McGee," Tony sighed tiredly, but patiently. "Is that you've got to look at the _reasons _why you want what you want. Do _you _really want it, or do your _parents _really want it? And is it worth trampling good people to get it? And I _am _good people, McGee, you guys just forgot it cause you were too busy trying to impress your fathers. Are you doing the job to make an impression, or are you doing the _best _you can at your job to make a difference for people? Not saying that you shouldn't enjoy some of the things that come with doing this job well. But if you're doing it just to impress someone, even Gibbs, then you need to re-evaluate why you're here.

"Me, my goals aren't that lofty. I want to solve cases; find the leads, put them all together, check the evidence, shake down the suspects, send the dirtbags to prison. It's what I'm really good at, besides football, of course. Never wanted to lead the team, McGee, not till Gibbs was old enough to retire for real. I liked being his SFA. _Loved _being his SFA. He didn't leave me much of a choice, and you were my responsibility. I did a great job while he was gone in spite of everything. Closure rate was just as high as ever, and he thanked me by tossing me out on my ass without so much as an 'Atta boy', then slammed the door on me and left me on the outside looking in. So if I decide to stay on the team, _his _team, it's gonna be because I can make a difference again, not because I want to impress him. If he can't see what I'm worth by now, he's never going to, no matter _what _I do. Same with you and Ziva. I'm either a competent agent, or just a frat boy trying to be a big shot. You guys need to decide if I'm worth being your SFA - and that means not questioning every goddamned order I give you - or if you want the SFA position and I move on to Fornell's team. And honestly, McGee, I don't care why you treated me like you did, this isn't high school, we're past the adolescent hormonal excuses for bad behavior and mob rule.

"If I stay on the team, things are going to be different from now on. You either treat me with the respect I deserve for my contributions and rank, or I come down on you harder than Gibbs. That goes double for Ziva, seeing as how she's here on the good graces of Jenny and not even a kosher NCIS agent. I like you, McGee, you've got lots of potential, but if you can't learn to follow chain of command, you might as well forget your ambitions for being Director, 'cause you're still going to have a shitload of people outranking you and there's no _way _you'll get away with giving SecNav or the rest of the big brass any lip about what they want you to do. They won't just growl at you like Gibbs, or just go do it themselves, like _I _did. Your ass will be out the door before they can hang up the phone on you.

"I may not _like _some of the orders Gibbs gives me, I may not even understand them at the time, but you know damned well - even when he came back half-baked and did his best to get me to smack him down so he could get rid of me - I never questioned his orders unless, on very rare occasions, I thought he was working from the wrong information. He's my superior, and he's my superior for a reason. But we both know he wasn't firing on all cylinders when he came back, and me trying to help him without making him look weak, which we all know he is not, was obviously not the right thing to do. It just made him go for my throat. But I couldn't have him taking you guys out in the field by himself when he couldn't even keep our names straight.

"My trying to keep us all safe was not the same as you and Ziva countermanding practically everything I said just because you wanted Gibbs instead of me as your boss. Gibbs seems to have his head back on fairly straight now, so I think he and I can figure things out between us, but I won't take the crap from you guys anymore. Don't need to, got too many other options, but bottom line, I'd like to stay working for Gibbs. If I can get back to some sort of comfort zone with you, and even Ziva, all the better."

McGee was silent, studying his hands, almost as if he was bored or wishing like hell Tony would shut up.

"Is any of this getting through to you, McSerious, or am I just making myself exhausted from talking for nothing?"

"No, no, it's…it's not for nothing, Tony," McGee answered quietly but sincerely. "I just…all of what you said…I got caught up in the one-up-man-ship with Ziva and never really thought of how it was affecting you. I just knew it felt good to get back at you for your - well, for what I took as bullying but I guess really was more teasing and character-building."

"And how professional was that, Tim? You ever see me trying to 'get back' at Gibbs for all his years of head-slaps and verbal abuse? Nobody forced me to join his team and stay on it. If I didn't think he had something new to teach me on a regular basis, I could've moved on long ago. Nobody gets better at what they do by running away every time their boss pisses them off. I finally learned that with Gibbs. I either stick around and figure out what he's trying to teach me, or I stay a second-rate agent who with the same skills I brought to the job and nothing more. That's not benefiting anyone. Do I wish sometimes he wasn't so freaking tyrannical? Like I wish for world peace and the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders under the tree Christmas morning. Not holding my breath. He is who he is and none of us are perfect, so don't hold me up to any higher standards than him, it ain't gonna happen for either of us."

Tony sighed heavily, and was about to tell McGee he was done talking when an orderly clambered to the door with the breakfast cart.

"Any chance Gibbs is out there with some _real _breakfast, McGee?"

"Saw him come in with a box and a bag. He's waiting at the nurses' station."

"Mind sending him in? Don't think I can start a new day on another hospital breakfast."

"Yeah, Tony, I'll send him in," McGee assured him, knowing he was being dismissed and more than glad for it. He wasn't used to this much open-souled honesty from DiNozzo, especially when the worst of it was directed at him, and pretty much deserved. It had all left him a bit queasy, and he was anxious to go grab some chocolate milk from the commissary. "I…I'm glad we talked. You gave me a lot to think about. I'll stop by later, bring you some lunch if we're not out on a case."

"Yeah, thanks, McGee, that would be nice. Maybe I'll see you later."

McGee smiled, a real smile that settled on Tony like a warm breath after a cold walk, and Tony thought maybe there was some hope for them yet. He managed a real smile back, with even a bit of life in his eyes that McGee hadn't seen there in a long time. McGee felt a sudden pang for knowing he was one of the people who had helped take it from his friend, and vowed to himself he would sort out his jumbled emotions towards the man and try to get back to where they were before the last five months had wrecked their team and odd little family dynamics, and hoped that Ziva would be able to do the same. One was never sure with her, her motives and emotions always seemed to be mercurial, and never more so than since Gibbs's coma and subsequent abrupt departure south. He guessed he would find out soon enough, and headed out to find his boss.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thanks again for all of your reviews, pm's and favoriting/following on this story! Thanks also to my beta Bunny for her wonderful help. Just a note, though no one has made a fuss about it; I just wanted to say that I really tried NOT to bash McGee in the last chapter - I just wanted to try to get behind his reasoning for his behavior towards Tony, in that season in particular. I honestly like McGee, just not the way the show writers portrayed him for a while. The same with Ziva - she was such a rich and layered character when she started in the series, and we rarely see any glimpses anymore as to what made her so special. So I'm trying to find her motivations behind her snarkiness.**

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It was almost noon before Gibbs left, having been satisfied that Tony had eaten enough to get him through until early evening, when he would return to share dinner with him. He had noticed that McGee's shoulders drooped a bit when he'd left the room, but he didn't ask what had transpired between the younger man and DiNozzo.

He would find out soon enough whether his team was going to be able to get back on solid enough footing to be able to continue to _be _a team. Gibbs had taken McGee aside in the bullpen the night before, explaining just what he expected of the younger man when it came to helping to make things right for their injured teammate.

He knew that there had been simmering issues with the two before his accident and subsequent 'retirement', issues that he admitted to McGee he had helped create, albeit unintentionally in his drive to get the best from each of them and keep his team on top. But it seemed that both McGee and DiNozzo were riddled with enough insecurity regarding parental expectations and disappointments that encouraging the one-upmanship between them had only served to turn what was once a fairly innocent sibling rivalry into a contentious struggle for dominance within the team.

It was up to Gibbs to cool the fires a bit by admitting his error in judgment concerning his attempt at 'team spirit' to McGee and let the younger man try to work through it for a while. He had to give the guy a lot of credit for going in to talk to DiNozzo knowing he was probably going to get an honest earful from the SFA. It was obvious by McGee's manner that he had been given that and maybe more.

Now it was Ziva's turn to walk into the lion's den, and though he had spent a bit of time trying to explain the facts as he saw them now, he wasn't at all sure if she intended to be cooperative in the face of all the recent conflict. She had not confided in him as to why she'd joined forces with McGee to make Tony's tenure as lead agent miserable. He remembered simple sniping on her part before he and things with the team went south, but he knew from talking to other MCRT team members that things had not gone at all smoothly for DiNozzo after Gibbs had parted company with them. He was hoping that DiNozzo could get to the bottom of it with her, get her to open up to him a little in sympathy for his battered condition. Neither she nor Tony had made any promises as to how much slack they would allow the other.

In the end, Gibbs knew that if Ziva was unwilling to budge, she would be sent back to Israel, whether their Director liked it or not, and he had a strong feeling that Ziva realized as much. But he wanted her to _want _to make amends with DiNozzo, not to just do it because she feared being sent back to her father. He trusted his SFA to be fair with her, even if Tony was still hurting from her insubordination to him, and what seemed to be mistrust when it came to helping her out of her perilous situation with Mossad a few weeks back. He knew—remembered—what a forgiving soul DiNozzo was; after all, the man had been forgiving him transgressions for years now.

When he left his second, he was on his way to a decent nap, and Gibbs hoped he would stay that way for a while before Agent David descended upon him. He let Ziva go from her desk around 1500 hours just to be sure, and ordered her to leave the room immediately if DiNozzo started to get upset. She promised him she would, and he would need to take her at her word. But to be on the safe side, knowing his agent as he did, he notified the nursing staff to keep an eye on things for him.

As it turned out, Ziva arrived just when Tony was being monitored on his trip back from the restroom, and the ex-Mossad agent was surprised at the seeming effort it was taking DiNozzo to land back in bed on his own steam. And he hadn't bothered adjusting his pace or hiding his labored breathing in order to make it seem like he was fine and dandy as he usually did for them all. Studying the slight sheen of sweat on his upper lip, she frowned a bit. She had thought that Gibbs was possibly exaggerating when he told her that Tony was still struggling to get his bearings both emotionally and physically. That he didn't try to disguise his weakness in front of her was both alarming and shocking to her - as if he no longer cared if she believed him infallible and made of iron.

It was then she realized that he _knew _she didn't believe that of him, so why should he bother pretending? A wave of anger coursed through her as she thought of how he had not lived up to her expectations of him, but that she had also asked for more than he was simply able to give. She clenched her fists at her sides, inhaled a loud, deep breath, and compelled herself to clear her head of the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her to the point of screaming instead of talking. What was wrong with her, anyways? She had been taught practically since birth to not let emotion cloud her judgment. Now was not the time to start. She waited as patiently as she could muster for him get settled back in bed, a glass of ice chips at hand to stave off the ever-dry throat. When he seemed to look somewhat more comfortable, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Believe it or not, I get where you're coming from, Ziva," Tony announced, cutting her off before she could get a word out. "I know that you like to think you can't be read, just like I used to believe about myself before I met Gibbs. You were angry at Gibbs for not being the father you wanted him, needed him to be. You were used and taken for granted by one father and abandoned by the one you thought would never do such a thing to you, that he loved you too much to just take off without even looking back, without a thought to the pain he was causing you, even after knowing what you went through with your _biological _father. Every time you looked at me, you wanted _him. _And what was once irritation with me for being a smart-assed Senior Field Agent became an all-out loathing of everything I did because I didn't deserve to be SFA much less the top dog, and the only top dog is Gibbs."

Ziva stayed silent as Tony took a breath and continued.

"I never tried to replace Gibbs, Ziva. He's not replaceable. I had a job to do, and don't tell me for one second that in Mossad, when a leader falls in battle or dies of old age, and his second takes his place, the team gets to say, 'Hey, _hold the phone, _he's not the other guy, so we're gonna make his life a living hell until they get the other guy back!" It doesn't _work _that way, _does _it? And since you're always so keen on reminding us how things are done way better and smarter in Mossad, I'm surprised that little bit of wisdom didn't trickle through to _this _team. Or did you just start coming up with your _own _set of rules, like Gibbs?"

"I never _once _disobeyed you, Tony!" she hissed, totally unprepared for his onslaught. "Neither did Tim and we got the job done, the cases closed!"

"No, you're right, you never directly disobeyed me. Questioned me at every turn, snarled at me, told me what you thought you should do instead, and where you thought I should go, but in the end, you obeyed me, cause I brow-beat you into it. That's no way to run a team, it's no way to _behave _on a team, and you know it. You're here as a guest, on the whim of Director Shepard, and for some reason, the indebtedness of Gibbs, though what that is I'm not sure if I've totally figured out yet."

Ziva stiffened, even her face turning to stone and shutting off the slightest bit of emotion behind her eyes. Tony almost thought he saw fear in them before she slammed their shutters closed, but decided to leave that for another time, if ever.

"You need to know that if I decide to stay on this team, I _will _continue to be the Senior Field Agent, and the insubordination and double-teaming will end, or you're gone. I know you don't think I can make that happen, but believe me, I've got more pull in this agency and town than you can imagine, 'cause if you did, you'd never have taken things this far. And I realize that Gibbs not only condoned it, but encouraged you guys to go after me when he took his job back, and that's something that he and I have discussed and pretty much put to rest. But you both knew better, Ziva. You _and _McGee are smarter and better than that, you _knew _Gibbs was not coming from a good place, and you instead of calling him on it, you both used it against me to punish me for any and every transgression against you by me, real or imagined."

"I was not trying to punish you, Tony. I am not that petty, I was merely…I was…I don't know what I was trying to do. I was hurt and angry and confused, and you were a convenient target. I could not lash out at Gibbs, I could not even call him to yell at him for…for leaving me, for not being the man I thought—I had _hoped_—he was! I was so _sure _of him, he seemed so faultless, so infallible, that when he _did _fail, it was worse than my father, because I always knew my father could—_did—_fail me, it was something I expected of him."

Whether she wanted them or not, Ziva found herself battling tears, her throat constricted with actual pain from trying to choke them back.

"But not Gibbs. And when he did...when he tore away that last vestige of hope I had for being loved for _me, _and not what I could accomplish for his agency, I…I took it out on you, yes. And when I was the target of Mossad, it was not that I did not trust you to help me, Tony. I knew you were perfectly capable of it. But I wanted Gibbs to do it. I had to know that…that he loved me enough to come back if I were in trouble. You have always known that he would do anything for you, Tony. I did not. And it meant everything to me that he came back. _Everything."_

"Fair enough, Ziva," he told her quietly, a little undone himself at seeing her raw emotion come to the surface. "It doesn't explain what you did _after _he was back to stay, but it explains a lot." He sighed and rubbed his face with his un-casted hand, already adapted to using it instead of his right one. He was so wishing for a shower before Gibbs came with dinner, but he needed to finish this with Ziva, to find the root cause of her surprisingly hostile behavior towards him. If he she couldn't understand it herself, she would just continue to repeat it, and that would do none of them any good.

"But did you ever once consider what his leaving did to _me? _That I had even more to lose from his disappearing act? Five years of giving him everything I had, and when I didn't have any more to give, stealing it from somewhere else and giving it to him anyways. I never handed my soul over to _anyone _like I did to him, and while I never expected him to thank me for it, I sure as hell never expected him to gut me like a trout and throw my entrails to the buzzards."

Tony looked at Ziva with careful emphasis. "He came back for _you, _Ziva, not for _me._"

Ziva swallowed, made silent by the emotion in Tony's words.

"Even when Abby called him to tell him I'd gotten my ass kicked by that gorilla Marine MP on meth and couldn't tell up from down for three days. He told her to not call him again unless one of us was dead. Think he was drunk at the time, hard to tell back then. But that hurt worse than the goddamned cracked ribs and my melon getting split open. Abby and I, we were his first kids, and he owed both of us for what we gave him on this job. But he came when _you_called. So, whatever's going on there, whatever he owes you, it's obviously worth more than Abby and I are to him, or at least it was then. Maybe you're even now, but you know what? I don't give a damn. I lost a helluva lot more than you did, and I didn't stop losing it after he came back. It was a bag of salt poured on a gaping wound. He didn't have to wonder too long why I made Fornell my next of kin instead of him. And he's got a long way to go before I decide to change it back, if I ever do.

"I won't ever put myself out there like I did before, not for any of you. I'll do my job like I always have, I'll cover all your sixes and put myself in front of a speeding truck for you guys if I have to…but I'll never hand over my heart again for you all to rip it out and stomp all over it. You of all people know what it's like to give away something precious to you and have it handed back to you in a million pieces. You are not made of granite any more than I am, no matter _how _much we pretend to be. And deep down you knew what I was going through, knew how hard it was for me to hold things together and keep the team from getting split up. 'Cause you would have been on the first plane back to Israel and McGee would have been back to the field office in a heartbeat if I had said to hell with it and taken that first promotion Jenny offered me after Gibbs took a hike. And honestly, I can't tell you how many times I've regretted not taking the damned thing, after the way you all tossed me under the bus."

"I - I didn't know," Ziva gasped. "You never…no one said a _word!"_

"No one knew, not even the all-knowing Leroy Jethro Gibbs. That's the way I wanted it. Didn't want to have to hear 'well you should have just gone to Rota if you don't like the way we're doing things' from any of you. Didn't need to, said it to myself in my head about ten thousand times."

"Does McGee know?"

"He will after you tell him, but he probably won't believe you; told me to my face I didn't rate my own team. Told me I was only lead agent 'cause Gibbs quit. He was only half-right. Thing is, now that you _know, _does that all of a sudden make me a capable agent and leader in your eyes? Is that what it finally takes for you guys to see my worth and value on this team? It shouldn't. You all should have seen it all along, and don't tell me you couldn't see it past me acting like an ass. We all know that's what it is, an act. To ease the tension, to distract Gibbs and get him off your backs, to make the day go a little faster. Didn't get to be Gibbs's SFA being stupid, we all know he doesn't _do _stupid, just ask all the stupid agents that have come and gone from his team. I'm sure as hell not one of them. Thus my conversations with you all to find out if it's worth giving this team another shot or trying out the Fibbies."

"You would really leave us, Tony?"

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if I wasn't seriously considering it."

He could see Ziva's eyes start to tear again, and as much as it surprised him, it didn't move him.

"The tears don't work for me like they work for Gibbs, Ziva. You can't turn 'em on and make me feel guilty. Not saying they're not sincere, just …I've been chewed up and spit out too many times in the past few months, not ready to jump into the dragon's mouth again anytime soon."

"I - I see," Ziva sputtered, not sure if she personally was being referred to as a dragon, but not really wanting to know the answer.

She sniffed back her ragged emotions and tamped them back down to her deepest part, a bit ashamed of herself for letting so much of herself be seen by her partner, and then realizing that in reality she had been an open book to the man since she had waltzed into the bullpen almost two years ago. She had staked her claim for a spot on Gibbs's premier team, mistakenly believing all this time that Tony knew nothing about her other than what she allowed him to know, but now seeing she had been able to hide nothing from him. In turn, she had come to believe that she knew everything about _him, _that he was a shallow and annoying buffoon who had no business pretending he was actually qualified to be Gibbs's SFA, but perhaps would make a decent lover and stepping stone to something better than the probie's Probie.

"Well, Timmy said about the same thing, and with just about as much conviction, so I'm still not sure if he really did or not. Maybe you two can compare notes and come up with some sort of answer. There may be a test on this whole FUBAR situation later."

He reached beside him and found the nurse call button, his signal to them that he could use a mild pain reliever for his aching arm and back, and eased himself into a more restful position, closing his eyes with a long sigh.

"Gonna take another snooze before Gibbs gets here with dinner, so...guess we're done here for now. I think I gave you enough to chew on for a while, if it's even something you're inclined to do anymore. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow when they let me out of here."

"Of course, Tony," she told him with as much of a smile as she could muster, knowing he wasn't looking at her, but perhaps might hear it in her voice. "I know it sounds strange, but, I _am _glad we had this talk. And I _will _strongly consider what you have shared with me, even the most unsavory things about myself. I know that I am not easy to work with, that I have…issues. It seems no one in Mossad noticed or cared because we are nearly all cut from the same rough cloth, it is our way, how we have survived. And I am not too proud to admit that I am still learning how to fit into the NCIS way of doing things and that I am, on occasion…wrong."

She heard a faint snort—nearly a choking noise—from Tony, even though he kept his eyes closed feigning sleep. Before she could call him on it, a nurse came in behind her with a small tray of meds and water, and she had to move to let her through. She felt a bit lighter with the admission, and the fact that she had managed to make him chuckle just a bit, even it was at her expense.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Not beta'd**

Tony was almost hoping that Gibbs would forget about dinner now, even though he was starving, and for something other than hospital food. Now he was exhausted, too, having given his all trying to make Ziva at least get a glimpse of what was behind the dynamics of their leader-subordinate fiasco. It had been incredibly difficult to bare his soul to both her and McGee, and honestly, he shouldn't have had to do so with either one of them. They were both smart people, and yet he'd had to dissect all of them like frogs in biology class for them to, hopefully, understand their motives and why things had gone so awry after Gibbs hotfooted it for Mexico. Mc-MIT should have had the good sense, if not the courtesy, to look beyond his own personal needs and ambitions to the good of the team, instead of thwarting Tony at every opportunity, and ramping it up once Gibbs was back and he had an sympathetic audience.

And Ziva certainly was not just smart enough, but trained up since birth to follow chain of command or risk an untimely demise, just another Mossad agent lost to the cause under murky and mysterious circumstances. Yet she had gleefully joined forces with McGee to undermine her new boss, and usually at the worst of times, when she _knew _he was on razor's edge from stress and lack of sleep. She would never had dared such behavior with Gibbs and they all knew it. And when she had been in such trouble with the FBI and Mossad, she had tracked down Gibbs at all costs, swearing now that she hadn't wanted to drag Tony down with her for trying to assist her. And yet Tony had been determined to help her anyways, ignoring the sting of her rejection and enlisting the rest of her 'family' to help, at great risk to them all.

Most of all, he wanted them to know that they had hurt him, even if neither of them could come to terms with how they had been behind the systematic taking- apart of one Anthony DiNozzo until he had chosen a dangerous undercover op over staying on the team. Maybe if was his fault for always being so aloof, always playing his emotional cards so close to the vest. But then, so did they, so did Gibbs, and yet Tony could read their emotions and tells as if they'd laid all their cards out on the table for him to see, to understand and empathize with. He had taken the time and trouble to get inside their heads and hearts, was it so difficult, or repulsive for them to do the same for him? Obviously it was one, or both. And now he was tired of waiting for them reciprocate. He had let them all 'have it', had told them just what was on his mind, in the most basic, non-obfuscating terms he could manage with his body screaming at him to just shut the hell up and go back to sleep.

The only one left to 'discuss' anything with was Abby, and he dreaded that more than both McGee and Ziva together. Her myopic allegiance and adoration for Gibbs had caused her to be blind to the hurt she had caused her best friend, and out of all of them, even Gibbs, that pain had cut Tony the deepest. He'd expected a lot more from her, not the biting of the hands that had held her and comforted her on so many stormy nights after Gibbs' abrupt departure. He knew she had been oblivious to it, and yet when she'd gotten her Silver Fox back home, she had continued to belittle him, often in front of Gibbs and the others. He had always, and _would _always have her six, no matter what, but he wasn't sure if he would ever feel the same warmth and closeness to her they had always shared. And that alone made his heart physically ache with sadness of that loss. Abby Sciuto had been the third woman to break Tony's heart.

He wondered if he signed himself out AMA if he could figure out how to get home – his wallet and watch had both been expensive props loaned to him by the FBI, and Fornell had made off with both of them straight away. And if he could, he'd pack a bag and head down to Panama City before Abby or anyone else even knew he was gone. Or maybe he'd go even further south and disappear for a while intto the Caymens.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Okay, I dashed that last chapter off a little fast there, but wanted to get something out on the story as I've had several very polite requests for me to finish the story, and now I'm in the mood to 'get 'er done'! Thanks to all who have patiently stuck with me on this one – I had to switch gears for a while, it was difficult to get inside everyone's heads and stroll around for so long and I needed a break! Let's see where the muse takes us! Also, I think if the writers had kept Tony within his original character, he never would have taken all that crap from Gibbs and the team, but would have found a way early on to politely but firmly nip it in the bud and nip them in their butts, and keep things running fairly evenly. After all, he told Gibbs off once in an earlier season and lived to tell about it, and Gibbs actually listened to him. Some.**

Tony had decided against the AMA idea as soon as he'd gotten down the hallway undetected by the nursing staff only to be busted by none other than Gibbs himself. He groaned at the thought of what was to come, wondering why his brain hadn't calculated the theory of Gibbs Relativity, that simple equation that stated 'you plus trying to do or say something sneaky behind Gibbs' back equals one hundred percent getting caught by the man at the worst possible time'. Many a now-imprisoned suspect had found that out at least once, and Tony had found it out several times, enough times that he should have gotten it through his head long ago, but he wasn't really in control of his brain right now, it seemed to have gotten tired of being attached to his stupid body and taken things into its own hands, so to speak. And now that body was standing toe to toe with a rather rough-looking Gibbs, trying to decide without benefit of a brain whether to run screaming to or from the danger.

"On your way to the commissary, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked in a level voice, betraying neither anger nor humor.

"I – you – I was -" Tony sighed heavily, and closed his eyes. There was no use trying to explain, he couldn't think of a lie fast enough, and he sure as hell wasn't going to tell the man the truth.

"C'mon," Gibbs gave him a gentle shove. "Back to your room. I got ya some chow, we'll talk. "

"Sick of talkin', Boss, wanna go home. "

"I know, Tony." his boss answered patiently as he directed Tony back into his room. "Talked to the docs just now, you can bust out of here tomorrow afternoon. "In the mean time, eat something, then get some sleep."

"Tired of sleepin', too. Too many drugs in my system, can't think straight. Keep tellin' them not to give them to me and they keep sneakin' into my IV."

"Need sleep to heal, kid, they know what they're doin'." Gibbs assured him, his voice still mild and scarily gentle as he helped his SFA back into his bed and surreptitiously buzzed for a nurse. "Just sit back there, there ya go." He grabbed the bag of take-out and plunked it on the bed, making sure the fumes wafted up to Tony's nose. It was taking all he had not to let loose on the guy and tell him what an idiot he was, and what the hell did he think he was doing trying to go AWOL without a coat or shoes. "Got a little of everything, didn't know what you'd be hungry for."

Tony couldn't stop his mouth from watering at the delicious scents, no matter how badly he wanted to tell the man to take his food and go, and Gibbs smiled at the way the younger man's mouth was working in protest.

"Beef chow mein, some soup, and a calzone from that pizzeria you like so well."

Gibbs opened the bag, and as he pulled out each item and set it out on the rolling bedside table, Tony had the worst urge to hug the man around the neck. He held back, realizing it was drugs and hunger and exhaustion warping his brain and making him think and do ridiculous things – what in God's name had he been saying to McGee and Ziva? He couldn't remember now, just that he had been really tired by the time they had left.

"Brought ya a fork, bunch of napkins."

"Agent DiNozzo, what can I do for you?" a nurse asked as she breezed into the small step-down unit.

"Boss, she must've smelled the food, hide it!"

"That's alright, Agent DiNozzo, I knew he had contraband. You buzzed for me."

"I buzzed for you? When did I start buzzing, Boss?"

"You didn't, Tony, nevermind. " Gibbs patted the younger man's arm. "Tony here seems to have come unhooked from his IV, I think he was having a bad dream or something, could you..."

The nurse spotted the dripping IV needle hanging down beside the bed, dripping out onto the floor.

"Oh, dear, I see, well, let me get the IV cart and we'll have you straightened around in no time!"

she offered cheerily, and took off to retrieve the equipment.

"Thanks, Boss." Tony murmured quietly, warmed from both Gibbs' outright lie and embarrassment at the man knowing what he had done. "I wasn't sleeping when I pulled it out, I was -"

"On your way home, I know, Tony. Eat something before it all gets cold."

Tony fiddled with the lid of the chow mein, not sure how to process how Gibbs was behaving about the whole thing.

"Yer not pissed at me fer trying to escape?"

"Oh, I'm plenty pissed atcha, DiNozzo, but yer in no shape for me to scream atcha, and you wouldn't listen even if I did. Besides, I haven't set the best example for ya when it comes to following doctor's advice. Gotta ask, though, how the hell did ya think you were gonna get anywhere in just your sock feet and pajamas and yer arm in a cast? And I know for a fact ya haven't got a red cent on ya, not even a watch to pawn off on someone."

"Didn't – think too much about it, Boss. My body just kinda followed my head where it wanted to go. Not thinkin' real clear yet, just know that I wanna go home."

"Yeah, understood, Tony. Go on, eat your calzone, I'll find somethin' for us to drink."

By the time Gibbs got back with coffee for himself and juice for Tony, the younger man had finished his calzone and was starting in on the chow mein as the nurse wheeled the IV cart out of the room, giving Gibbs a long-suffering smile as she left. Maybe the nightmare scenario hadn't been quite as believable as the gunny had thought, but then again, he was still a bit annoyed with the staff for having been the one to find his SFA headed out the door half-out of it and half-clothed, at 19:00 hours, no less.

He had to sympathize with Tony, even through his anger at him, as he himself was an expert the last few months at not knowing whether he was coming or going. He had treated his friends badly, and Tony abominably, in his confused and grief-fueled state of mind, and decided that the younger man was allowed some leeway, too, coming down off a badly planned and managed undercover ops that he never should have been on in the first place. Gibbs had let him down, and in a huge way, and in the rush of memories and guilt he'd had the past few days, he was open to letting Tony do just about anything he wanted, including move into the guest bedroom and pick out a puppy for Christmas.

He set the drinks on the bedside table, and settled down in the chair next to Tony, sighing audibly at the first gulp of the nurse's station high-end coffee he'd managed to sweet-talk them out of.

"Thanks fer covering for me, Boss, the IV thing, I mean. I think she knew I pulled it out, she was kinda short with me. Or maybe I just felt guilty, who knows?"

"Don't worry about it, DiNozzo, it's done and fixed. Finish yer chow mein."

"I kinda gobbled down that calzone, Boss, I'm sort of full now."

"Good, that's what I was aimin' for."

There were several minutes of silence between them as Gibbs enjoyed his coffee and Tony drank his juice before Tony broke the quiet calm.

"You seen Abby lately, I mean – I expected her to be here by now, she never stays away when I'm in the hospital."

"Yeah, I know, DiNozzo, and yeah, I saw her before I came here. Had a good long talk with her, too."

Gibbs seemed to be pointedly ignoring his SFA by staring at the floor between his feet, and Tony started to fidget, certain that something was more amiss than even he had first thought.

"Boss? Is she mad at me er something?"

"No, Tony, " Gibbs turned to him and assured him with his eyes that he wasn't lying to him. "She hasn't come to see you cause she's afraid."

"Afraid? Afraid of what, Abby's the most fearless chick I know -"

"She knows that McGee and Ziva had really personal talks with you tryin' to clear the air and get things back on track. She doesn't -"

"Wanna talk. Yeah, I figured as much." Tony grumbled, a stormy look on his face.

"She told me what went on between you two while I was gone – I already knew what she was doing when I got back, and I thought it was – I didn't understand how it was between you two before, how close you were. I was thinkin' she – well, she had me believing – or I let myself believe – that she didn't like you anymore than I did. I figured if someone like her didn't like you, then I must've been right in my opinion of you, cause she seemed to love everyone else, including me."

Tony said nothing, and when Gibbs looked back up at him, found him looking lost, staring out the window at the skyline. He'd remembered the way his two young colleagues had been before he'd taken leave of his senses, that they were as close as siblings could be, and would have done anything for each other. And now that he was gaining control of his wits and memories, he couldn't imagine why Abby had treated her surrogate brother with such disrespect and, in Gibbs' eyes now, outright cruelty.

"You know how bad I feel about how I treated you, and I know that I was the worst one and the mob leader. And you said you understood, that you knew I was coming from a really bad place, and I was. I kept seeing this guy actin' like a clown at work every day, smiling, joking around, taking everybody's crap and letting it slide, and I thought – why does _he _get to be happy, this little jackass with a silver spoon in his mouth who can't even write a decent report...and god damn it, it wasn't fair, you being some happy-go-lucky jazzed up shit while I just wanted the world to _stop fucking turning _and acknowledge the hell I was in...and you just wouldn't stop, wouldn't let me break you down into jagged little pieces like I was."

"Boss?" Tony asked in a voice more bewildered than usual at the older man's seemingly off-the-track rambling.

"I'm tryin' to say that even though I was a worthless piece of crap these last few months, especially to you, she had no reason to be. Not even as much as McGee and Ziva, and yeah, they had some issues that made them gang up on you while I was gone, and like I said before, a lot of that was my doing, I fostered a team environment that fed on all your egos and insecurities, and I'm gonna work to not let that happen again. But Abby had no issues with you, that much I remember now; you protected her, even put yourself between her and Ari's bullets. And you could talk to her, tell her your deepest, darkest secrets and she wouldn't even tell them to me, she was so protective of you. Then the minute I leave, she turns on you, leaves you to fend for yourself against a certifiable director and two rabid team mates who hate you for having the balls to step up to the plate and actually do your job, something they didn't seem interested in doing. I went back and read the reports for those months, Tony, I've been talking to Fornell, other people here at the Yard. They all say how surprised they were at how she treated you, it was the opposite of what they expected from her."

"Yeah, well, no one was more surprised than me, Boss. Gotta tell ya, it hurt as much as anything I can remember in a long time. Still does. And I don't have the vaguest idea of how to fix things with her. Even if she apologized for it, I just – I don't think things will ever be the same between us. If it had been just one time, or a few times when she was really stressed out, then yeah, no big deal. But it was like she was on a mission to cut me down to size, cut out my heart, like if she drove me away, you'd come back and take my place. Why everyone has always thought I was the only one in this bunch that had deep-seated emotional issues I'll never understand. About the only one who hasn't shown their dark side through all this is Ducky, and truth be told, I don't think he has one to show. If it hadn't been for him and Fornell, I don't know what I would've done by now."

"Well, she told me some things, DiNozzo, but they're better coming from her, and not while you're half-out of it in the hospital. And before you get all bent over that, it's not what you're thinking, she does feel bad about what she did, and if my opinion's worth anything to ya right now, you'll hear her out and let her make amends with you, or at least give her a chance to. Tomorrow when you get out of here, you'll be comin' to my place for a couple of days, just till you get your sea legs back, and she'll come over some night for dinner and tell you what she needs to."

"I – thanks, Boss, I appreciate that. A lot. You've always taken her side no matter what, and – it means a lot to me that you came at it from a different point of view."

"Yeah, well, I remember some times now when I was just as tempted to smack her behind as I was your head, and threatened to do so on more than one occasion. I know she can be a spoiled brat, and part of that's my fault, too. Can't say that's gonna change too soon, though, so yer gonna have to work with what you've got."

Gibbs began clearing away the clutter from the take-out, and pulled the bedside cart over against the wall.

"You think you can go to sleep now, I'm gonna go get another coffee and sit here with ya for a while."

"I'd like that, Boss." Tony told him quietly, closing his eyes and settling back down into the bed. Gibbs grabbed up the extra pillow and gently stuffed it in under his SFA's casted arm and made sure the blanket was covering it. "Thanks for dinner. And thanks for talking to Abby. I'm sorry she's afraid to talk to me now. Never should've let it get this out of control."

"And just what the hell would you have done about it, Tony? You had yer hands a little full for quite a while there."

"Ahhhh... I dunno. I like to think I would've nipped it in the bud with all of them somehow and things would've gone a lot smoother. Coulda -woulda - shoulda. You know how that goes, Boss. Just didn't see it comin' "

"Yeah, Tony. Know all too well about that. Go to sleep. I'll have some breakfast for ya come morning."


	15. Chapter 15

_**Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, favorited and or followed this story. It was a difficult one for me to write and I appreciate so much the fact that you all are enjoying it!**_

Just as Tony had been forewarned, he was carted off to Gibbs' house as soon as he'd been released from the hospital, with a myriad of strict instructions handed down by Ducky to be followed, or else.

Sitting amongst pill bottles, water bottles and general clutter, Tony fiddled single-handedly and absentmindedly with his phone and computer, and Gibbs knew his SFA was not only coming down from the pain-killers that had laced his system in the hospital, but nervous about having to confront Abby, who had promised to stop by as soon as Tony felt a little stronger and less at the mercy of his drug-futzed brain. It took a few of days, but he'd been able to sleep and eat better at Gibbs' place, and he finally felt strong enough to meet with her. He'd also been able to think a bit more clearly about all that had happened in the past few months, and was able to talk over a few more things with his boss about team dynamics and how things had gone so far off the rails. They had spent last evening in the basement, Gibbs finally getting some quality time with his boat, while Tony parked himself on an old lounge chair and sipped a contraband beer and watched contentedly.

"_Really missed being down here, Boss."_

"_Yeah? Fornell says you were here all the time checking on things and makin' sure nobody was makin' off with my tools. Thanks for that, by the way."_

"_Yeah, sure, I – just seemed like the right thing to do."_

"Yeah, well, there were a lot of 'right things to do' the past few months, and it seems that you were the only one doing their share of them."

_Tony shrugged, but was pleased at the compliment._

"_Everybody has their own way of dealing with crap, Boss. Some of us can handle stuff better than others."_

"_No excuses, Tony, not even for me, not for that kind of behavior. Truth be told, I'm pretty sure I couldn't forgive us all as easily as you have us."_

"Well, Boss, that's the thing, I -I know that's what people are thinking, that I just let you guys run me into the dirt and then just forget it all cause I have low self-esteem. Maybe I do _have that sometimes, but – believe me, I'm not just forgetting all of this and moving on. If I learned anything from growing up with Senior, it was self-preservation, and to make sure I learned from my mistakes. Forgiveness doesn't always enter into the equation. You probably have already guessed I'm not gonna quit the team, but my reasons are a lot different than you'd expect."_

Tony took a pull of beer and watched Gibbs' careful planing of a piece of the boat, wondering where it would end up. Gibbs waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, looked up at the younger man.

"_And? What are they?"_

"Frankly, I don't figure things are gonna be any different the next alphabet agency I'd end up at, or precinct, or wherever I ended up. I'm who I am, Boss, I'm a conglomeration of a royally screwed-up child-hood, a totally bent adolescence from being shipped off to military school cause my current step-mother was a little too fond of me, and about a thousand betrayals from friends and partners and girlfriends. I'm not having a pity-party, but you can't blame me for being just a tad messed up and having to find ways to keep my brain from exploding when things get tough. What I'm trying to say is, I am who I am, and even though I work to try to smooth out some of the hard edges life has given me, I'm not willing to be someone I'm not. I'm not talking about actin' like a frat boy or a dumb jock or any of those other stupid covers I use at work to annoy and confuse.

"_I'm talking about changing my personal code of ethics and values to suit my team mates, or even you and Abby. I'll do just about anything for you guys, but I won't bankrupt myself in the self-worth department for you guys or anyone else. I'm good at my job – no, I'm GREAT at my job, and this team wouldn't still be in existence if it weren't for me, whether or not Timmy or Ziva ever understand that. I know it, YOU know it. I give every job I have a hundred and ten percent, and it wouldn't matter where I went, I would be giving all I had and somebody on whatever team I was on would be spending all their time looking for ways to cut me off at the knees out of jealousy or ambition or just sheer pigheadedness. It happens wherever I go. I'm out risking everything, burning up brain cells figuring things out that no computer geek in the world could come up with, and because I don't fit into that round hole, because I'm not a golden boy genius or the captain's nephew or some stuffed shirt yes-man, I don't get a moment's peace or worse, an ounce of respect. What happened between us all, you and McGee and Ziva – well, I've seen the worst of all of you, and as shitty as it sounds, I'd rather stay and work with the devil I know than have to start all over again and try to figure out what I'm dealing with."_

Tony took another slug of beer, and waited for a more- than- likely angry Gibbs to tell him what a self-absorbed ass he was, to which he would scream back at him the old favorite of calling the kettle black. But Gibbs kept working, as if he had drifted into his own thoughts and not even heard anything Tony had been telling him. Which, Tony figured, would be nothing new, but he wasn't about to bare his soul all over again because Gibbs had chosen to pursue his own soul-searching. After a few long minutes, he put down his planer and picked up his jar of bourbon for a good swallow.

_'Yer waiting for me to tell ya yer looking at the whole situation bass-akwards and that if you can't just turn the other cheek and give us all full pardons, then what the hell kind of friend are ya and why are ya still hangin' around?"_

"_Yeah, Boss, I – yeah. Wasn't even sure if you were listening."_

"Heard every word you said. Didn't like any of them. Mostly cause you shouldn't have had to be explaining yourself to me or anyone else like that. No team, no FAMILY, should put a member in the position we put you in and still expect you to have anything more to do with us. But you took the high road, cause that's what you do, Tony. No matter what you think your father or military school or idiot partners did to screw you up, you've got a moral compass that's as true North as anyone I've ever met, and compassion that a lot of us don't deserve to have shown to them. And you're right, it doesn't matter where you go, to the FBI or Homeland Security or the Secret Service, what you've got not only doesn't get appreciated, it gets stomped on till you've got nothing left of it to give. And as big a bastard as I am, I couldn't stand to see you lose that, Anthony, not just for your sake, but for mine and everybody else's. You've used that compass and compassion on me when I didn't deserve it, and not just these last few days. And I have a feeling I'm gonna need it for a long time coming. Whether you decide you wanna hand it out to us anymore, that's up to you. But fact of the matter is, I don't give a damn why you're staying, just that you are. And truthfully, I'd think there was something wrong with you if you DIDN'T base your decision on something more than forgiving us schmucks. Forgiveness is pretty over-rated if you ask me. I'm not saying that you shouldn't. I'm just saying that it shouldn't be automatic, not for the hell we put you through. I'd have a helluva time not carrying a grudge if it were me."

"Not saying I don't have any of those, either, Boss. Just not gonna let it define who I am, and anyways, I won't always be so angry about it, I'll take what I need to learn from it and move on, like I have everything else bad that's happened to me. It's just gonna take a while to bounce back."

"Yeah, sure. I know all about bouncing back, mostly that I don't bounce anymore. I drag myself up kicking and screaming."

"Yeah. Well, as long as you come back in the end..."

"You have any idea what yer gonna say to Abby tomorrow when she gets here?"

"Honestly, Boss, I like to think I do, but with Abs, anything goes. I'm gonna just play it by ear, I guess."

"Yeah, well, don't be giving her any free ride, Tony. I know what a manipulative little snot she can be, and like I said before, that's partly my fault for letting her get away with that shit. I can get tough with her, but she came to me like you did, pretty much the way she is now, flaws and all, and I accepted her as is, like you guys did me. There's not a whole lot I can do to change her, not sure that I would ever want to, but she was still way out of line with you. You tell her what you need to, if she cries and whines, you walk away. I won't get pissed at you, and I won't let her come crying to me. All the rest of us have had to own our shit in this mess, time for her to own hers."

"_Yeah, okay. Just – it's not gonna be easy for me if she cries, you know I can't stand it, it makes my knees turn to jelly."_

"Yeah, and she KNOWS it does, just like Ziva knows she can do it to me. Eventually ya gotta draw a line in the sand and stand your ground. I haven't gotten there with either one of them, but we need to keep working on it or we're both gonna be done for with them."

"_Okay, Boss. Just remember you said you wouldn't get pissed if I make her cry. Cause I'm pretty sure it's gonna happen."_

"Yeah, me too, Tony. Just do what ya gotta do to get yourself where you need to be with her. Maybe it won't be the same as before, but anything is better than the way it is now. Don't make any knee-jerk decisions about it, either, you talk to her, she talks back, you consider what she tells you and you talk again later. Don't let her back you into any corner."

"Jeeze, Boss, you make it sound like I'm going into the lion's den with a whip and a chair!"

"Yeah, well, that's about the size of it, isn't it, DiNozzo?"

"Guess so, Boss. Maybe I'll have some of your Dutch Courage before I go in there, you got any of that top shelf stuff Ducky bought you for Christmas?"

"_Top shelf, behind the paint thinner. Keep it for special occasions. But you won't need it, DiNozzo. You'll know what to say to her and how to say it. It's how she accepts it that'll be the hard part._

_Then again, she may be ready to hear it, so, couldn't tell ya. I'll keep an ear out, though, make sure things don't get out of hand, if they do, I'll come referee. I have enough experience from you and McGee, and I won't let her draw blood, okay?"_

" 'ppreciate it, Boss. Have a hard enough time keeping what I've got in me now."

"Yeah. And THAT is a whole OTHER subject that's gonna get discussed, between the Director and me, and Tobias gets to ref that one."  


"_I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that one, Boss, but in all fairness, neither of them had any clue how pear-shaped the thing was gonna go. At least I don't think they did. Not sure anymore, maybe you can let me know how it all shakes out."_

"Oh, believe me, DiNozzo, you'll be the first one to know. And you know that if I'd been in my right mind, I never would've let them do that to you."

"I know, Boss. Just one of those things." Tony drained the last of his beer and rubbed his casted arm. "I gotta go to bed, my arm's startin' to hurt. Thanks for listening, it feels good to get it out even if 

_I'm not asking for you to agree with me. But I like that you did. First time in months anyone has."_

_Gibbs graced him with a sad smile and drained his own glass._

"_Yeah, so I've heard. And yer welcome. C'mon, I'll come upstairs with ya, need to do some paperwork before I turn in. Seems things got a bit out of hand with the mail while I was gone."_

"Mail will do that, Boss, it's worse than e-mail. Wake me up when you get ready to make breakfast, I'll make us some omelettes."

"Sounds good, Tony, I missed your omelettes, Mike couldn't make them worth shit, always burned 'em and left half the shells in." Gibbs turned to the younger man when they got to the kitchen landing and put a hand on his shoulder. "I missed you, too, Anthony, even though I didn't know it at the time. You could've cut and run as soon as the going got rough but you didn't, you toughed it out till I made it impossible for you to stay, and I'm proud of you for that, and ashamed of myself for doing it to you."  


_Tony flushed at Gibbs' unexpected praise, but didn't shy away when the man reached up and squeezed the back of his neck affectionately. _

"_Thanks, Boss. Maybe while I'm working on forgiving you guys, you can learn to forgive yourself for some things. Works both ways."_

Gibbs found a lopsided smile for his second, and squeezed his neck again.

"_I'll work on it, Tony. That and a few other things. Can't guarantee anything, but I owe it to ya to try."_

Tony dropped his head again, hoping to hide the emotions tumulting across his face from his boss.

"_Meant what I wrote on that note, Tony. And I'm sorry for not being any better than Senior was at the job. I always took what you told me about him and thought what a sorry excuse for a father he was and that you deserved so much better. You deserve a lot better than what I give, what the rest of us give ya."_

Tony finally looked up into his boss's eyes and gave him a watery smile.

"_You're my family, Boss. Sometimes family hurts you more than any stranger ever could. But I don't want to be like my father and make what I feel for you guys conditional, that's not real love, that's – I don't know what you call it, but I call it fucked up. And you've been more like a father to me than he was ever capable of. And I'm not the easiest guy to figure out when it comes to the emotional stuff, so I think we're all pretty even in that department. We all have our issues, I probably have more than all of you put together. Some of what happened to me wasn't deserved. But when the rubber hits the road, it's up to me on how I let others treat me, and I need to stop being the doormat on Team Gibbs. You know I never had a brother or sister like they have, I don't really know HOW I'm supposed to behave half the time. And when Tim and Ziva disrespect me, I let them cause I don't want them to reject me. Childhood habits are hard to break, even ones as illogical as that, and they just used it to their advantage to help themselves cope with a scary situation. Guess we all turned into kids after you left, Boss."_

"Hell, DiNozzo, you were all kids to me before I lost my marbles on that ship. MY kids, good, naughty, and everywhere in between. Just be patient with me and I'll try to set a better example for McGee and Ziva. If that doesn't work, well, we'll burn that bridge when we get to it. Go on, get to bed, you look like fifty miles of bad road."

"Thanks, Boss, I love you too. Goodnight."

" "Night, Tony. Let me know if you need anything, I'll be bunkin' on the couch."

"Sure, Boss. See you at breakfast."

_Gibbs waited at the bottom of the stairs to make sure Tony navigated them safely to the top, then retreated to his dining room to sort the box of mail accumulated since his accident and subsequent leave of absence. When he'd found out all the things his SFA had done to keep things in order for him while he was gone, he was furious, feeling like Tony had meddled in his personal affairs and was perhaps even trying to 'steal' his beloved house away from him. Now he understood that he had been completely wrongheaded and paranoid, and his guts clenched when he thought about what he had put the young man through during both his self-imposed exile and subsequent return to grab his crown back. That DiNozzo would even speak to him, much less not hate his guts was a testament to the Tony's ability to see past the dark side of people and concentrate on their good qualities. Gibbs wasn't sure yet exactly what those qualities were that Tony saw in him, but he was sure his second would be more than happy to enlighten him if Gibbs asked. And he was going to do just that during breakfast the next morning, and Gibbs prayed that he had the strength to believe him._


	16. Chapter 16

**Not beta'd. Thanks again for all of your reviews, and to anyone I didn't get back to yet in a pm.**

**I know that Gibbs has been quite the talker in most of this story, but he really needed to make the ultimate sacrifice and SAY what he's thinking and feeling to Tony if he wants him to know he's serious about making amends for how he treated him.**

Gibbs had worked again on sorting mail the next morning, letting Tony sleep in a while before he started breakfast. He hadn't gotten very far on the pile of papers last night, as his thoughts kept wandering to all that had happened to himself and the team the past few months. His SFA had pretty much stated that he wasn't going to leave the team, at least not in the near future, but he could tell something was still eating at the younger man. Well, what wouldn't be eating at him, considering all he had been through lately?

Gibbs sighed and shoved the stack of mail back in the box – he seemed to me more tired than ever now that his memories were flooding back and he was trying to deal with the after-effects of raging grief and now a decent amount of guilt. He had made some hard decisions last night after talking to Tony and getting a better idea where his second was coming from. Gibbs had come away with enough information to know that, while Tony had reasons for moving on past what his boss and team had done to him, nothing was a done deal as far as his SFA staying on the team indefinitely. Most of that was up to them, Gibbs in particular in how he set an example of respecting and valuing Tony's skills and contributions to the team.

He'd have to be more careful about the way he fostered competition among them, and be more watchful of the pettiness and jealousy that, now that he could see it and admit it, ran rampant among the junior agents. In their quests to build themselves up in his eyes and gain his approval, they were tearing down not only a teammate, but a good man, a man who almost always could see the bigger picture and beyond himself to what needed to be done. And in Gibbs' attempt to always be the top dog, he had never worried about the fact that Ziva and McGee questioned his SFA's directions or commands – as long as they followed his own. If he wanted Tony on his team for longer than it took him to give his notice and get a fond welcome from Tobias Fornell, he was going to have to lay down some new rules just for them, and even take a few days teaching chain of command and procedural issues to the younger team members, because obviously neither had attended class the day those 'minor' topics had been covered.

Chucking the box on the ironing board, he headed for the kitchen and started putting together the fixings for pancakes and sausage patties. He'd leave the eggs to Tony, as they were his specialty, having learned some of the best cooking skills at the feet of his father's highly paid chefs and cooks. He had the batter mixed when he heard Tony wander in behind him, and turned to land an amused eye on his house guest. The younger man's hair was bent out in a few odd directions, and he seemed only half cognizant of where he was, although he had managed to change out of his pajamas into a sweatshirt and sweatpants.

"Need coffee. Mouth tastes like a monkey slept in it." he mumbled, standing in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Gibbs handed him a mug, steered him by the elbow to the second coffee pot, and pointed.

"Your coffee. Creamer's in the usual spot. Sugar's on the table."

"Boss! You got another coffee maker just for me!"

"Yeah, well, just for you and anyone else who's not tough enough to drink the real stuff."

"Cowboy coffee, Boss." Tony muttered. "You obviously know the recipe. Take a pound of coffee, a gallon of water, boil it together, throw a horseshoe in it, if the horseshoe sinks, throw in some more coffee. Not all of us are cowboys. Some of us are saloon owners and bankers."

"Just get yer coffee and get the eggs goin', Abby'll be here in a while and there's no way either one of us is gonna deal with her on an empty stomach."

"That's for sure, Boss." Tony set about cracking the eggs and finding his special ingredients. Gibbs kept an eye on him, chuckling at him being able to crack eggs one-handed, looking like a gourmet chef and not even thinking about it. They were quiet as they went about their tasks, taking time out to drink their coffee, enjoying being able to be in sync again at least when it came to making breakfast. But Gibbs could tell Tony was concentrating on more than getting the scrambled eggs right.

"Got somethin' ya need to tell me, Tony?"

"Gonna take some time off, Boss."

Gibbs guts froze, but he didn't miss a beat as he flipped a pancake.

"Just a couple of weeks while I get my head back together a little. I'd just be on desk-duty anyways for most of it, so, by the time I get back, I'll probably be able to be cleared for field duty."

"Where ya goin', or don'tcha wanna tell me?"

"Enh, not sure yet. Was thinkin' the Caymans. Got some money saved, always wanted to stretch out on one of their beaches for a while and not do anything but sip umbrella drinks and watch the tide go out."

"Sounds like a good plan, Tony. You clear it with Ducky?"

"Ducky suggested it. Well, not the Caymens, just that I get out of town for a while, get some sun and relax. Honestly, I think I could sleep non-stop for a month, but that would get nasty. So, two solid weeks of hanging out on the beach and sending postcards back to you guys."

"Good. I think that's a real good idea. I have some things in mind for Ziva and McGee that I wanna work on, gonna ask the Director to take us off rotation for a few days."

"Huh. Do I even wanna know what's up for them?"

"Doubt it, but you can bet your ass you'll figure it out when you get back."

"Like the sound of that, Boss. Eggs are almost ready, I'll throw in some toast."

Ten minutes later they were at the table, plates full, syrup and coffee flowing freely. They were both starting to feel more comfortable in each other's presence, the tension of the past months, and even the last few days, easing to near where it used to be before Gibbs' brush with death at the hands of Pin Pin Pula. Both of them had seconds, and spent the end of the meal talking about the new project Gibbs was planning to work on in his basement when he was finished with the current one, and for once it wasn't a boat. Checking the kitchen clock, Tony headed up to take a shower and get dressed for the day while Gibbs cleaned up the dishes.

As good as he felt now, he was still dreading his 'showdown' with someone who had surprised and disappointed him the most in his tumultuous tenure as lead agent for what had once been Team Gibbs. He of all people knew how high-strung and temperamental the young goth could get, but he had still thought he could turn to her for a port in the storm. It had been a cruel slap in the face to find that she could turn on him like she had in her sorrow for Gibbs leaving them with no warning. It was a betrayal that would bother him always, and even more than the gross disrespect and insubordination dished out to him by Tim and Ziva. Though thoroughly disheartened at their behavior towards him, he hadn't really been that surprised. Gibbs had not exactly left him with a glowing recommendation – what the hell did he think he was doing leaving him with a 'You'll do.' as a final endorsement of his abilities?  
After five years of wringing literal blood, sweat and tears out himself for the man to help him make and maintain Team Gibbs as the premier MCRT and that was all he could give him back? Not exactly a

stellar way to start off leading a team that was already dysfunctional in so many ways.****

He dressed and dried his hair, falling into the routine he had developed over the years of maneuvering with one hand, and headed back downstairs. Finding that Gibbs had the kitchen duties under control, he grabbed his phone and made himself comfortable on the couch, waiting nervously for the crap to hit the fan. Gibbs brought him a bottle of water and some antibiotics per Ducky's orders, and noticed nervous fingers trying to work the tiny keyboard. Nothing he could do for the kid; he knew it was a combination of work-related stress and injuries, pain meds, and just plain exhaustion. He was glad to hear Tony was going to finally take some real time off and decompress.

"Want a muscle relaxant, still have some left."

"Nope. Thanks, Boss. Maybe after we're done."

There was a quick knock on the door, and Abby's voice calling out.

"Gibbs? You here?"

"In the living room, Abs. Come on in."

She shuffled in, arms loaded with canvas totes, and dropped them in a heap on Gibbs' coffee table.

"Hi, Tony." she said, her voice quiet and sounding contrite. "I brought you some cookies and stuff from your favorite deli. I'm not trying to soft-soap you, I – I should have brought them to you at the hospital, I kept buying them and then eating them myself cause I was so out of sorts."

Tony nodded, and gave her an equally quiet "Thanks."

She turned to Gibbs, who had parked himself in the old armchair at the end of the couch

"You don't – you don't have work to do on your boat or – laundry to do or -"

"Tryin' to get rid of me, Abs?" he asked, just a touch of annoyance in his tone.

"Well..yeah, sort of.." she offered, ringing her hands in front of her. "I – I'm nervous enough already, I didn't really expect an audience."

"Well, ya got one. Tony's been at the wrong end of the stick for too long, mostly because of me. I'm not gonna turn my back on him anymore, if he needs me to have his six, I'm gonna be there."

"Gibbs, I would never hurt Tony, I – I mean, not physically, and I never meant to do it emotionally, and I don't see why I'm being singled out and put on trial."

"That what you think, Abs? That you're the only one who got called out for their idiot behavior in this whole mess? I can't believe McGee and Ziva haven't spilled their guts to ya about their talks with Tony."

"Well, they have, a little, I mean – not all the details, just that – they had to understand what they had done and - apologize for it."

"They didn't actually apologize, Abs." Tony corrected her. "They just kind of got an _idea _of what they had done and that they needed to understand why they _did _it."

"So – that's all I need to do is – apologize, then."

"That feel right to you, Abs? Cause honestly, that's not what I was looking for."

"Then I don't understand what you _want _from me, Tony!" she half-yelled, half-whined. "Everything is _good _now, Gibbs is back, you're his second again, why do you have to keep stirring the pot?"

Tony let out a tired sigh, and sank back into the plaid cushions.

"You know what, you're right, I'm just a pot – stirrer, a pot – stirring, rabble – rousing whiner that's never happy. So we're done here, take your cookies and whatever else you think you brought, and go bowling or clubbing or gothing, I just don't care anymore."

"Tony -"

"Abs, I'm done with this, I don't have the strength or inclination to keep going around in circles with you, you either get it or you don't. You don't seem to cause you don't _want _to. As long as you can blame it on me, or Gibbs' amnesia, or the earthquake in East Bum Squat, you don't need to see the consequences of how you behaved and then have to own your own shit."

Abby seemed to slump into herself, and it was then the tears started. She turned to the man she had bet everything on, whom she was sure had returned to them by her voodoo and positive thinking alone. He would help her, of that she was sure.

"Gibbs, _tell _him!"

"Tell him _what, _Abs? Cause so far I haven't heard anything worth crap out of your mouth! You go and build homes for homeless people, volunteer at the animal shelter, ring the bell for the Salvation Army! But for the guy who's been your best friend and brother for the last what, four, five years, you can't admit you screwed up royally and broke his heart instead of being there for him when he needed you the most! _I _apologized, for God sakes, and I was half out of my head when I was treating him like shit! He wants to know _why, _Abs! I had to take a damned hard look at myself to figure out why I had turned on him, and it what I saw wasn't pretty! Only _part_ of it was from the amnesia, I knew I was being a bastard to someone who didn't deserve it; you think I _liked _admitting how wrong I was, that I figured if I was miserable, then he needed to be miserable, too? Is that why, Abs?"

"He didn't stop you, Gibbs! He just let you leave, let you turn your back on all of us, so _he _could finally be the big boss for _real! _He didn't even try, just took your weapon and your badge and wrote you off! Then he not only tried to take your place, he tried to be _you! _And he's _not _you, he never _will _be you, and...and.. it felt like he was mocking you now that you weren't there to defend yourself!"

"_He _is right _here, _Abby!" Tony stood up to challenge her., his anger rising to the boiling point with her. "Don't talk to him, talk to _me! _Tell me to my face that I really could have stopped him from leaving, cause I wanna know how I could have actually done it if _you _couldn't, which by the way, you didn't even try yourself! And _yes, _I took his place, I did my freaking _job, _like I was trained up to do, which everyone thought was _great, _as long as it was _me_ getting all the nastiness and head slaps! No one minded then, as long as goofball Tony took the shots! But by God let me actually follow orders and show my competency as a leader and all of a sudden I'm the enemy? What the hell do you think would have happened if I had walked away like Gibbs did?

"Do you think for one second that either McGee or Ziva could have lasted as a team, or lead one out in the field? There would have been no team for Gibbs to come _back to, _and you damned well _know _it, so would _they _if they could pull their arrogant heads out of their tight asses! And yet you all hung me out to dry, blocking me every damned move I made until I just didn't _give _a damn anymore! Did I expect that insubordination from _them? _Could've lived with a lot less of it, but yeah, no big surprise there. Did I expect _you _ to lead the pack and crucify me, even after Gibbs came back? Never saw it comin'. Somehow you and Ziva think you were the only ones who felt abandoned by him, maybe you thought it was just one more rejection for me so why would I even notice?"

"Tony, _no, _we..."

"You cried and yelled and stamped your feet and blamed me for him leaving us until I started to believe it myself. If I'd worked harder, been a better man, a better _son, _ I would have known what was on that ship, I would have stopped him from ever getting hurt and having to re-live that hell that sent him over the edge to Mexico...that _I _didn't watch his six, and I deserved to have him walk out on me, and that you were suffering because of it. And yet even though you couldn't be bothered to watch _my _six_, _I never deserted you. By the time I took that undercover op, I was so far under the your boots you couldn't even _see _my six to watch it. I decided I'd rather go out with a bang in a hinky op than let you guys finish me off like a pack of wolves. If at any time were sick with guilt and worry over me when you didn't know where I was or if I was alive or dead, then I'm _glad, _it was worth all the fear and the pain those jerks inflicted on me! I will never again put myself through what I did for you and this team, Abby, it was a one-time thing. You get a do-over on this, cause I didn't have the guts or the brains or whatever it was I needed to nip it all in the bud when Gibbs hiked off to Mexico, and tell everybody exactly how things were going to be. I naively thought _you _guys would be smart enough to understand what we all needed to do and do it, whether we liked it or not. Seems though I was the only one who was. Look where it got me."

Tony heaved a weary sigh and collapsed back down onto the couch, throwing his head back into the cushion and closing his eyes.

"You alright, Tony?" Gibbs asked, concerned that perhaps his second had had some sort of relapse from the stress of 'talking' with Abby.

"I'm tired, Boss. I've said all I'm going to say on the subject, it will be whatever it'll be from here on in." He looked up to see tears running in rivulets down Abby's cheeks, and though it hurt him like it always did to see her cry, he couldn't bring himself to beg her to stop. Guilt just couldn't overcome the satisfaction of seeing her contrition, or at the very least, her failure to prove herself in the right. Gibbs had done as he'd promised, and not defended her or taken her side in the matter, and that alone had had to set her back on her booted heels. Well, let her cry for a while, let her think about what he had told her, against what she had admitted to them, and see if her righteousness held up to it. He had a pretty strong feeling that it wouldn't, and it would be only then that her apology would be heartfelt and sincere. That was okay, he could wait for it, and imagine what she would say while he was lying on that fabulous beach in the Caymans.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: This is the last chapter for my story, thank you so much to all of you who took the time to review, many of you several times throughout the story, and to those who favorited and followed. It was a difficult story for me to finish, as I tried to stick to canon as much as possible, and those episodes/seasons really sucked in my opinion. So many of the team went off the rails with that story arc; Abby most especially surprised me with her rude and thoughtless behavior, but no one ever explained or apologized. And to say that everyone lived happily ever after at the end of my story is a pipe dream. Tony still gets crapped on and made to look like a goof, ('Domino'arc) McGee and Ziva are still insubordinate, (can we say "Dead Air" anyone?) and Abby still has Gibbs wrapped around her little finger!**

To say that Abby had been shocked by what had happened in Gibbs' living room was more than an understatement. She had expected a little less damnation from Tony and a little more support from her Silver Fox, and got neither. That her tears seemed to not affect either one of them was just as startling – she rarely cried in front of them, but when she had in the past, there was usually no shortage of comfort and sympathy from them. So-o-o...maybe something _was _hinky with her thinking, maybe it wasn't Tony who hadn't seen the bigger picture more clearly. Complete shock and confusion had been the order of the day for all of them when Gibbs had left them, except, she remembered, not for Gibbs' second in command. He had been strong and focused, and driven, determined to keep his team, his _family, _from falling apart at the seams, and she had never taken the time to wonder where he'd summoned that inner tenacity to come to work day after day and put his all into being something he had never asked to be. None of them had. It had just been easier to lay the blame at his feet instead of the actual person who had caused their pain, no matter how unintentionally.

Now she looked down at him sagged back into the couch, eyes closed and looking like round bruises against his pale complexion. She was pretty sure he had fallen asleep, voluntarily or not, she couldn't tell. Even Gibbs wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to find out by asking him and probably waking him up.

"Whataya see, Abs?" Gibbs asked her gently, still annoyed with her, but also sympathetic to her present plight. He really wanted to help her, but not to the detriment of Tony. She needed to understand the consequences of what she'd done, just like he had had to, or she would never be able to get back on an even keel with her supposed best friend.

"I... I see a man who looks really exhausted, and who hasn't had a lot of people backing him up lately. He's right, Gibbs, he never quit on us, never gave up on keeping us from falling into a million little pieces, even when we were giving him every reason not to. I was so hurt, and angry, and he took it, he let me use him for a punching bag, just like he let you. He was easier to blame than you, I didn't want to believe that you could ever do anything like that to us. He tried to make me understand why you did it, and I guess I always did anyways, I just...you weren't here to take it out on and he was."

She sniffed back a sob and rubbed her eyes with her hands, and Gibbs lead her to the dining room

and handed her a paper napkin off the table to wipe her face.

"Thanks... after...after you came back, I was afraid you wouldn't stay if he caused a fuss, so I tore him down, tried to make him think he couldn't do the job, when he'd already been doing it for years. I chose you over him, not because I didn't love him but because I couldn't stand you leaving again. And then things got out of hand, and you were treating him bad, and Tim and Ziva were treating him bad, and it just seemed...there was no fighting it, and he didn't come around much anyways, it was usually you or Tim that came down here and then he was gone, on that stupid undercover assignment and I was mad at him all over again for going and doing something so stupid and scaring us half to death by not knowing where he was or if he was even breathing anymore, and you were unbearable to all of us cause all of a sudden you were starting to put things together and you realized what you had done and that you loved him and that you might never have a chance to tell him that and to apologize to him, and I was mad at him for doing that to you..."

"He didn't do _anything _ to me, Abs, " Gibbs told her quietly, settling her in a chair and kissing the top of her head. "And you _know _that; I did it all to _him, _we _all _did, and we didn't give him any choice but to take that op. Like he said, we'd turned into a pack of wolves to him, and he decided to trust total strangers with his life rather than trust us to keep him safe anymore. I backed him into a hard corner the day he was asked about doing that op, and he took it knowing full well the jerks setting it up didn't know their asses from holes in the ground. I was driving him away on purpose, I _knew _I was, he knew I was, I just didn't know why, didn't even care, just got so I hated him so much I wanted him gone.

"Well he _got _gone, almost permanently, and I almost lost myself all over again. I guarantee he'll up and walk if we can't get our acts together, Fornell's already offered him a spot on his team, Homeland Security's asked the Director if he's looking to move on...he has no reason to stay if we can't figure out how to change how we treat him, and that means changing our perspectives on what happened the last few months. We were wrong, Abs, _you _were wrong. Nothing he could have said or did would have made me turn around and come back, and he knew it, I was done with my life here, I barely remembered any of you, or my job, I had no reason to stay.

"I'd probably still be down there if Ziva hadn't gotten in hot water with Mossad, and Tony would have taken only just so much more from you guys and high-tailed it over to Fornell's team. Tim would have been sent down to Cyber Crimes and Ziva would have had to go back to Israel. Blaming Tony for my mistakes and for him cleaning up the mess I left him has got to stop, and now. He did good by you, by _all _of us, and he did it cause he loved us, and cause it was what needed to be done, and all he got in return for it was a kick in the balls. The kicking stops here, Abs. We either give him a united front, or we're gonna be seein' his back, those are the choices."

Abby collected herself with a sigh and a blowing of her nose into the napkin, then tried to clean off the eyeliner and mascara from her cheeks, without much success.

"I guess we really put the 'funk' in dysfunctional family, don't we, Gibbs?"

"Yeah, yer not kiddin'. Don't think I've talked so much in my entire life what I've said these past few days. Needed to be said, whether I wanted to or not. Would never have had to if I hadn't been such an ass."

"Would you tell him..we're not done, that I want to apologize to him, I mean, really apologize this time, not just show up and tell him to forgive me?"

"Yeah, I'll tell 'im that, Abs. He'll be goin' back to his own place tomorrow morning, Duck and I will take turns stopping by and checking on him. I'll tell him you'll be stopping by sometime. But he has standing orders from me not to let you try to bully him into anything."

"Gibb, I never _bully, _I -" She stopped short at the reproving look on his face. "Well, I never _saw _it as bullying, anymore than _you _did! I've always seen it as just being very persuasive and determined!"  
" Tony would give you anything you wanted without a second thought if he thought it was in everyone's best interest, Abs. Don't hold it against him for having the good judgment to know when to tell you 'no', or that you're being wrong-headed. He got it from me all the time, and knew I was looking out for his six, even if I wasn't always right about it."

"I know, Gibbs, I just – I lost my way after you left, everything was wrong after that."

"Then let's start making it right, and start with Tony."

She nodded and wiped her nose on another napkin, leaving a pile in the middle of the table, then stood up and headed for the door.

"Make sure he gets the cookies, I wasn't trying to bribe him with them, honest, it's just been so long since I've seen him eat any I thought it might cheer him up."

"Okay, Abs, I will." Gibbs assured her, ushering her out the door. "I know this is hard, Abs, but I know you can look at this from where he was coming from and see it in a whole new way. Follow the evidence, not the assumptions and you'll get there."

He gave her a gentle hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek, and she hugged him back around the neck.

"Thanks, Gibbs. And thanks for watching his six again, even if you did have to kick mine."

" ' Welcome, Abs. Talk to you later."

He watched her get in her car and drive off before closing the door, then turned his attention to the young man lightly snoring on his couch. Tony still looked restless, and his face was pinched even in sleep. Gibbs grabbed the old quilt off the back of the sofa and arranged it carefully over him, then gathered up the bags Abby had let slide to the floor when she'd arrived. Progress had been made, he was sure of it, but how much was questionable at that point. He sighed, but knew he had done all he could for Tony for the time being, and went back to sorting his mail.

It was the middle of the next week before McGee and Ziva started to get suspicious, then downright worried over the fact that Tony still was not back at work. Even coming off his medical leave, he would have normally been at his desk, working whatever case they were on from the bullpen, or just working cold cases. Gibbs had been running them ragged, taking them through the paces of a supposedly 'experimental' Probie program handed down by the Director for Gibbs to 'try out' and decide what he liked and didn't like about it. It was tantamount to being in FLETC all over again, with street cop and police detective tossed in for flavoring. It consisted of taking and evaluating written tests, including lengthy essays that they both detested and griped about, saying they had no bearing whatsoever on being trained as an NCIS agent. All of it was done on hard copy, long hand, with pens, and McGee thought he might scribble right through the paper trying to write something that made sense in the allotted time. Ziva was better at the non-linear thinking part of it, but got impatient and frustrated, cursing the test makers and wasting her time fussing over why things were done this way in America.

The essays weren't exactly equations, nor were they right or wrong, black and white sort of problems.

They seemed to be obscure, wandering things, and as McGee commented half-way through his test, written by someone on hallucinogenic drugs, but were actually designed for the test taker to figure out how to get from point A to point B without aid of computer or weapon. Neither finished any of them, they'd become so freaked-out and agitated over them, and they would have been doubly so to find out that Gibbs himself had come up with the questions himself after consulting with DiNozzo.

The rest of the 'test' consisted of training exercises, most notably a hostage-situation where they were not allowed to have their usual weapons on their persons, and were required to 'discuss' things with the hostage-taker rather than rely on any sort of physical aid other than a cell phone. This was failed quite miserably, too, and at the end of the day, Gibbs walked away from them completely disgusted.

Day three found them interrogating belligerent 'suspects' and uncooperative 'witnesses', all in the presence of their 'lawyers', and both of them losing their professional tempers with all of them, Tim having to leave the room and take off his tie, and Ziva threatening bodily harm to a 'public defender'.

By Thursday morning, no one was talking to each other, and Tony's desk remained ominously empty.

No amount of whining or trickery could get their boss to tell them where their SFA was, or when he would be back. Mid – morning, Gibbs threw folders in front of them onto their desktops, and sat on the edge of his SFA's workspace slugging down a coffee.

"Those are your test results. If you were trying to graduate a police academy, or become a detective, they would have laughed you out of the building, the both of you. If _this _ place had tested you with these now, Tim would be back in the Norfolk field office, but not as an agent, just a computer fixer guy. Ziva would be back on a military transport to Israel, with the Director's blessing."

"Those tests weren't _fair, _Gibbs," McGee spat out his protest. "The written tests made no sense at all, the hostage tests would never have happened that way, and no real public defender would ever come up with that sort of ridiculous

rationalization!"

"McGee is right, if those are the tests that will be used to judge new agents from now on, there will be no more new agents to work for NCIS!"

"You're sure of that, are you?"

"McGee, you had so much ink on your essay papers, I couldn't tell what was writing and what was garbage. Come to think of it, it was _all _garbage. Ziva, you spent so much time being pissed off about _why _you were doing the test, you never finished any of them. Your concentration was shot to hell, you practically bit through the pen, and I could barely read what you _did _write through all the wrinkles where you'd balled up the paper in a hissy fit and had to unball it again."

"I did not have a hissy fit, I do not even know what that _is, _and why is Tony not here to have to take these tests with us, he could not have done any better than we did on them! Gibbs, is he coming back to work with us or has he...decided he has had enough?"

"Enough of _what, _Agent David?"

"Enough of not...enough of – enough of law enforcement. Ducky said Tony was contemplating leaving the country, is he going to join his father in his business or -"

"Not real sure what country DiNozzo's in right now, but I seriously doubt he'd join leagues with his old man no matter what he paid him. None of which has to do with the test results in front of you."

"Boss, I thought you wanted him _back!" _McGee squeaked, shocked at Gibbs' lack of concern.

"I do, McGee. Question is, do _you _guys want him back. I can't answer that, won't answer that. Can tell ya that you don't _deserve _him back, none of us do, except Ducky and Palmer. But if and when he comes back, it's not gonna be the old status quo. I can't make you like DiNozzo, I can't even make you

_appreciate _DiNozzo, but I _can _sure as hell make your lives a living nightmare if you can't start showing him some respect and follow his lead. Read 'computer fixer person' and 'military transport'.

And yeah, it was my fault for not making both of you do that from the get-go, and I made it ten times worse the way I treated him when I got back from Mexico, and he and I have talked about it, and it's between him and me.

" But this is now, and we're going to pretend we're starting from scratch on this team. And by the way, those tests in front of you? They were designed to try to make you understand non-linear thinking, and how to think outside your tiny little box, be it computer or brain. And they were all actual things that happened to DiNozzo either as a cop, a detective, or a Special Agent before you guys showed up on the scene. And guess what, he 'passed' all of them, and many more, and if you don't believe me, go ask the Director to let you read his personal files from his PD stints and when he first got here. On your own time, of course. Then go back and re-read your test answers and results, and you'll see why he's my Senior Field Agent, and you're not."

Gibbs took the time to smirk behind his coffee cup as he reveled in the shocked faces of his agents, then strode casually to the elevator.

"Now that you know all that, re-read what you wrote and did, and see if it makes any more sense to ya now. I'm goin' for more coffee. Have fun."

_MEANWHILE, ON A BEACH IN THE CAYMANS..._

As soon as Tony had gotten off the plane and onto the tarmac, he could have kicked himself for not doing this sooner. Like, _years _sooner. Everything was blue, and fresh, and green and fresh, and _damn, warm and fresh!_ He had watched the beaches approaching with the marvel of a little kid, and realized he had _been _a little kid the last time he'd been anywhere this exotic, and in the struggle to get through his bizarre and neglectful childhood, had forgotten how wonderful these kinds of places were, and what a balm to the soul they could be. He didn't even bother unpacking his bags before he was out the ocean-front hotel door to the beach, and galloping through the sand to the rolling surf. Every muscle seemed to relax at once, and he felt like a rag doll, or a marionette whose strings had just been cut.

He was glad there was no one around, because at the same time his body let go its obsessive need to be in control, so did his brain, and he let go a half-laugh, half-sob as he dropped himself into the warm, blue waves.

This he could do, and suddenly two weeks didn't seem like a long enough time to spend there. But it would do, and he would shave or not shave, eat and drink when and what he wanted, stay awake or sleep in as late as he wanted, read every single book he had brought along with him, and bake himself like a loaf of Italian bread on the beach every day. He'd brought his phone, but Gibbs had promised to not call him save for any emergency, and he planned to call Gibbs once a day, at the end of his day, to share with him what he had done, or more likely, not done, and let his boss know that he hadn't drowned or run off with a rich widow and gotten married.

A few days into his beach-bumming, he bought some postcards at the hotel store and started to write and send one every day, indicating neither way whether he intended to come home or stay a beach comber. There were times when he honestly wasn't sure after all, but he knew in his heart the pull of his job would send him back to the States, and that now that he had re-connected with his inner Gilligan, he could always put aside some funds and come back here every year. Maybe some year he and Gibbs would be back on their old wavelength, where words were said by looks and thoughts were traded by body-language, and he could convince the man to come with him and hang out, if only for a week. Be Skipper to his Gilligan, and maybe even find a Ginger to flirt with.

For now, he was laid out on the beach in a high-end chaise lounge, reading Twain's "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court" and he could almost make himself believe that none of the last four months had happened, and that he wasn't still nursing a fractured arm and bullet wound in his side. He had explained some of what had happened to the small resort's staff, just enough so they wouldn't wonder and fuss, which made them fuss over him even more, which was actually quite wonderful. It was like having Ducky as his valet the entire time he was at the resort. He wondered a bit what was happening back in the bullpen, but most of him really didn't want to know, or even really think about the place for a while.

Gibbs was mostly back to his old self and would have things under control now; perhaps by the time he got back, his team would be ready to be a real team again, and Abby wouldn't act like she had to walk on eggshells around him anymore. She had apologized profusely and genuinely the next day after their big blow-out at Gibbs' house, and he had accepted, genuinely, but with reservation in his heart about ever relying on anyone that much again to have his six when the going got rough. She had broken another part of him that he doubted could ever be properly repaired – glued and stuck together, but never really the way it was before it had broken.

Somehow he had always believed she would never be capable of breaking his heart, and he kicked and growled at himself for being so foolish. He was expecting perfection of her, of his team and Gibbs, or at least more than they were able to give him, and he had to readjust his expectations of them if he wanted to survive working with them. It had been a while since his world had tilted from someone letting him down – his old partner Danny Price, to be exact – and he had softened up in the meantime. It occurred to him that he should have his own set of rules to live by, just like Gibbs, except they would be private, for his eyes and soul only, nothing for anyone else to peruse and judge. He scrounged around in his beach bag and found pad and pen, and while McGee and Ziva were hopelessly scribbling non-answers to their essay questions, he was very thoughtfully making a list - he decided to call it his '007' list, for his eyes only'. It became the most important project of his vacation, next to eating, sleeping and enjoying the water, and he wouldn't go home without completing it. Half-way through it, he realized it was yet another thing he should have done sooner, it would have saved him a lot of grief, but then again, he probably would never have taken time off and come down to this beautiful beach. He closed his eyes and settled down into the lounge chair. In half and hour they would bring him his lunch. After that he didn't know, and didn't try to think that far ahead. Yeah, he could so do this for an entire two weeks. Life was good, after all.

**A/N: Thanks for joining me on this fic. I found myself oh-so wishing just now that I was on that beautiful beach with Tony. Dream away, girls!**


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